


Nothing But Trouble

by galaxy_barnes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 55,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29259903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxy_barnes/pseuds/galaxy_barnes
Summary: The Avengers are forced to work together with a rookie from Europe for their next assignment, but she seems to be more trouble than she’s worth. Will they let prejudice and misconceptions dissuade them, or give her a chance to prove herself?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 44





	1. Prologue




	2. What a Rookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovable rookie, Agent 17 meets the Avengers. Some of them are hungry, some of them sweaty, others exceptionally nosy about her background - but is there really a reason to be suspicious of her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: none

Standing in one of the spacious conference rooms in the Avengers Tower, Agent 17 swallowed and struggled to control the slight shake of her hands, clasping them behind her back. Limbs heavy with fatigue and senses dazed from the jet lag caused by the almost nine-hour flight from Berlin to New York, she sighed heavily. The few hours of stolen sleep on the way here were certainly not enough to cover for the exhaustion setting deep into her bones.

A few feet away, Director Fury leaned against a nearby desk, his expression unreadable and seemingly unfazed by the unusual meeting arranged mere hours ago.

The early afternoon sun poured through the large windows, as if mocking the teams back at the European Headquarters who were already well into their evening shifts. _This will be a long day_.

Another deep breath, unconscious this time.

A slight chuckle from the other side broke her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Agent Carter smiling encouragingly. “Relax, they’re not gonna eat you… not yet, anyway.” 

Agent 17 cleared her throat “I’m sorry,” she apologized “it’s just that this was very sudden for me too.”

They shared a friendly smile before turning back towards the door as the Avengers slowly filed into the room. As far as Agent 17 was concerned, they weren’t informed of her arrival, and the unexpected briefing caught them all by surprise. That would explain why some of them came in their training outfits, sweaty, disheveled, and - _was that Agent Barton with a half-eaten toast in his hands just now?_ He was followed by Tony Stark, who almost poured a mugful of coffee on Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes as he tried to pass behind their chairs to get to the back of the room. He apologized, but didn’t seem sorry at all.

It was a strange feeling, seeing the Avengers in person. She viewed their files, the mission reports, not to mention the countless news articles, and they were constantly set as an example to follow at the University. _At S.H.I.E.L.D_. Even on a different continent, they were heroes.

However, they knew nothing about her, and she could already feel their curious glances. A quick check of clothes, to reassure herself she looked decent and presentable - boot laces tied tight, cargo pants clean. Her black shirt with the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem and the jacket should’ve given off a look of professionalism. Instead, it made her feel like some hired high-school mascot. _Great_. 

So much about first impressions.

* * *

Bucky shifted in his chair uncomfortably, irritated that their training session with Steve was interrupted. Right when he was about to get the upper hand over the punk, too.

Yet what proved to be another boring briefing for a new assignment has started to pique his interest. A young woman stood next to Fury, looking around the room with an excited expression. The S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on her shirt and the shoulder of her ugly green jacket was hard to miss.

She must be a new recruit, Bucky thought. Only rookies get excited about meetings like these.

After everyone settled, Fury let his eyes roam across the room, pausing for the briefest of moments at Barton. “I can clearly see you’re all excited to be here, so let’s make this quick. I’d like all of you to give a warm welcome to Agent 17 here.”

She straightened her back, a bright smile of acknowledgment on her face. “She came here on behalf of the recently established Headquarters in Berlin, and you’ll be working together on your next mission.”

From Berlin? _Oh_ , they definitely got Bucky’s attention now. When Fury asked her to let them in on the details, she positively beamed with pride. Bucky let out a snort. _What a rookie_.

At least her English was good, he’s gotta give her that much. Well, there was an accent, of course. The way she seemed to roll some of the R’s, and the funny way she pronounced the V’s. It was almost cute, and Bucky could feel a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He stopped it from spreading across his face just in time, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

Agent 17 turned towards them with a confident smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet everyone.” she greeted. “A few months ago, my team and I were assigned to uncover a large Hydra group based in Dublin, led by a man named Killian Quinn.”

She paused briefly as the vast screen behind the conference table flickered to life, displaying a large map of the European Union. Scattered throughout were red dots indicating capitals and larger cities connected by various lines. Soon, the photo of a man in his mid-thirties - Killian, no doubt - appeared too.

“He and his group are responsible for several large-scale robberies and cyber attacks throughout the continent, and we were in charge of finding out where his base of operations is, uncover his connections, and collect evidence against him. However,” she reluctantly admitted with a frown “when he felt us on his trail, he decided to flee. We followed him all across Europe, through Prague, Hamburg, Budapest, Sofia, and finally, Barcelona.”

Tony put up his hand before cutting in “Um, teacher, hate to interrupt, but how does this involve _us_?”

Fury shot a scowl towards him “Forgive Mr. Stark, Agent. He has a hard time sitting still and quiet for more than three seconds at a time.”

“I actually went as far as five seconds once, I’ll have you know.” he jested with a grin.

Fury sighed and continued. “A week ago, Quinn disappeared off the grid in Barcelona. Last night we received confirmation that he fled to the US, Atlanta more precisely, so I offered to take the case over from Berlin. They agreed on the condition that Agent 17 will tag along and ensure Killian is escorted into custody. I accepted, and now we’re all here.” he looked at the team once more before wrapping up. “If you have any more questions, ask Hill. She won’t answer them.” he abruptly turned towards 17. “Agent Carter will show you around.”

Bucky watched in amusement as Fury left before returning his attention to the newcomer. Sharon walked with her to the door and helped with getting familiar with everyone. Tony made it as brief as possible, and while Natasha wore a friendly expression, to Bucky it was obvious she was holding distance. If Clint had anything against her, he hid it well because he started to crack his usual jokes. The worst part was that she laughed at them. _Unbelievable_. 

Steve tapped him on the shoulder and nodded towards them. Bucky sighed but followed after, wanting nothing more than to get it over with. She was already animatedly talking to Sam about how much she respected the work he did at the VA. To say Sam was flattered got to be an understatement. Her face lit up with newfound enthusiasm when they got close, and for a second, Bucky was afraid she might even salute.

“Captain Rogers, it’s an honor to meet you.” 

Steve blushed slightly as they shook hands. “Please, just call me Steve. It’s better to drop the formalities if we’re going to work closely together.”

Agent 17 tried her best to comply “I’m sorry, I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. It was obvious she was nervous, but at the same time, there was an aura of confidence that radiated off of her and seemed to have a friendly word for everyone. As if on cue, she turned towards him. “Oh, and you must be Sergeant Barnes, then. I’ve heard a lot about your accomplishments.”  
  
Bucky was taken so aback that he couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded at her extended hand. The new recruits steered clear of him most of the time, some even fleeing to the other end of the hallway if he appeared. Yet there was this girl from god knows where reaching towards the former Winter Soldier as if it was the most natural thing to do. Accomplishments? What was this girl even talking about?

Steve coughed politely, and it took him a second to realize it was meant for him. 

“It’s… it’s Bucky.” he cleared his throat, taking her hand in his almost a bit too firmly at first. “Welcome on board.” He looked into those deep dark brown eyes of hers, dotted with mischief and excitement. She thanked him with a bright smile before Sharon gently pushed her out the door, saying their goodbyes and heading down the corridor. Bucky couldn’t help but stare after them, still a little shaken.

“See something you like?” Steve asked as he elbowed him in the sides.

Bucky snorted and pushed at him playfully. “Oh, shut up. And don’t think I didn’t notice that lovey-dovey look you shot at Sharon.”

“You jerk.”

“Punk.”

Tony cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly “If the two Jurassic fossils could join us here that’d be great, actually.”

Steve sighed and shared a meaningful look with Bucky before heading back to the table to join everyone. They were going through the dossiers when Tony picked up a comically thin personnel file that laid on top of the other documents. “Okay, now _this_ has got to be a joke.” He promptly flipped it open. Clint whistled, staring at the page in wide-eyed amusement.

“That’s one of the shortest files I’ve ever seen. There’s practically nothing in there.”

Bucky stepped next to him, peeking at the files over his shoulder. What he said was true. The page was basically half empty. There was absolutely no personal information about the girl. The name was stated solely as ‘ _Agent 17_ ’, with a date of birth and… _gosh was she really only 25_? Nationality, an array of languages spoken and under that, a list of reckons she took part in. There were a few more papers in there, neatly typed mission reports.

At the top of the file, a photo was held fast with a clip. It was her, alright. Her rich, dark brown hair was much shorter, a grin stretching across her face.

What kind of a rookie smiles for their file photo, anyway?

Tony snapped the folder shut and waved in front of the screen at the back of the room. “Alright, that’s it. F.R.I.D.A.Y., bring up her file, I wanna see it. _All of it_.”

The AI skipped through the different servers and folders with lightning speed before finding the one belonging to Agent 17. Only...

“I’m afraid I can’t open it, boss.” the AI reluctantly answered.

Tony stared at the screen in disbelief for a few seconds. “What do you mean you can’t?” 

“The files are protected. A Clearance Level of 10 is required to access them.”

An uneasy silence settled over them. Even Clint raised his head at that. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

Natasha just frowned slightly, arms crossed over her chest while Tony seemed even more annoyed than before. “Well, that’s just great.”

Bucky tried to follow the conversation but got a little lost at that. As far as he knew it, all Agents’ profiles were protected to some extent, but he wasn’t exactly familiar with the different security levels. Stark’s outburst wasn’t something unusual, but when he saw both Clint and Natasha growing concerned over this, he started to worry too.

“What does that even mean?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you what it means. It means nobody else can access it except Fury.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, growing irritated. “Tony, I know you’re not happy about this, but we don’t know why her files are locked. Maybe its standard procedure for the European Headquarters, and...”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” he interrupted.

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm them down. “Look, we’ve been told whatever we need to know for this mission. I don’t enjoy working with strangers either, but that’s just how it is and so far, she seemed nice enough.”

“She’s an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Steve added. “And until she proves otherwise, we just gotta trust her.”

He stared at him intently until Tony broke, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Alright! Fine! You know what? _Fine._ But I’m going to complain the whole time.”


	3. Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone’s favorite mug is stolen. Also, what’s with that last line? Is that foreshadowing, or do I simply want to take your attention away from something else? We’ll never know!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: none

A light breeze swayed the curtains as warm light shone through the large windows. Dust motes danced in the air and the bustle of the city could be heard faintly. But in the early morning haze, everything seemed to be soft, and at peace.

Except it was not.

Agent 17 woke with an abrupt startle, gasping for air as she sat up in bed, realizing that the warmth of the sun was but a distant dream. Scanning her surroundings in panic and trying to remember where she was, she vaguely recalled the flight and the briefing with the Avengers from yesterday. _Was it really just yesterday?_ It strangely felt like a long time ago. Fumbling around on the nightstand, the light of the phone’s screen almost blinded her.

 _4:58 am_.

With an exasperated groan, she fell back on the pillows and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. It was already past 11am in Berlin, and this crazy jet lag made her body clock feel completely out of sync. She had a rough night, tossing and turning around, whole being fighting against it as if it meant death itself. The few winks of sleep she managed to get were haunted by uneasy dreams, whispers of nightmares creeping into her soul and poisoning her thoughts.

Trying to focus on the day ahead filled with meetings with both the Avengers, and her team back in Europe to attend to, she couldn’t help but wince. Their regional director was already angry that the morning briefings had to be moved to a later time because of her.

She snorted out loud at the thought before she could stop the unconscious action. As if being transferred here wasn’t their idea in the first place.

With some reluctance, and much grunting, she climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. If sleep won’t come, then might as well do something productive - although the grumpy face with the dark circles under its eyes staring back from the mirror convinced her to take a shower first.

The hot water helped to ease the remnants of pain in her muscles and chased away the building headache. As thrilled as she was to work with the Avengers, she just wanted to make quick work of this mission and get back to Berlin. Quinn had to be caught as soon as possible, and Agent 17 meant to take her part in it. But it surprised everybody - including herself - when Hansen practically ordered her to pack up and catch the next flight to New York to look for the man, with none other than the Avengers in tow. It’s not that she felt incapable. She might still be the new kid on the block, but she was proud of her achievements.

But there were a handful of Agents who had more experience than her and were much more cut out for this assignment. Why send a rookie when you can send your best men, right? It just didn’t make sense.

After brushing her teeth, she walked back and the duffel bag she came with was tossed up on the sheets. Everybody hoped that Killian would be found in a few weeks at the most and she prepared as such, not bringing too many clothes. The cargo pants from yesterday had to do, then came a sleeveless shirt and a black sweater. As she grabbed for her card, she halted.

Was she even allowed to wander around on her own at this hour? Agent 13 showed most of the common areas yesterday, but they never talked about this. As she stood there thinking it all over, an idea came to her. With a quirked eyebrow, she looked around until she found what she was looking for: the card reader and screen attached to the wall next to the door.

It felt weird, but she was at a loss, and had no better ideas. She decided to give it a go. “... um, hello? F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

A few seconds later, the small screen came to life with a blue light.

“Good morning, Agent 17. How can I help you?”

* * *

F.R.I.D.A.Y. seemed to be more than happy to navigate her around and turns out Stark gave her quite a lot of free range. All the common areas for S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were available to her - the gyms, the canteen and the meeting rooms, too. But on top of that, she also received limited access to the Avenger’s private floor. This included the special conference rooms, and the shared kitchen where she was currently trying to make herself coffee, with some questionable success.

Once she figured out how to operate the damned machine, she quietly went through the cupboard. There was an orange mug that she fished out from the very back.

As soon as she turned it around in her hand though, Agent 17 let out a small laugh. There was a Snoopy figure printed on it, donning a vampire costume. She just couldn’t picture any of the Avengers actually using it. Which meant nobody will miss it if it got borrowed.

She was leaning against the counter, absentmindedly stirring the coffee, enjoying its bitter scent and the warmth of the cup. The faint ding of the elevators went off in the distance. She was wondering who would be up at this hour when Sam stopped at the kitchen entrance. He stared at her in surprise for a second before smiling warmly.

“Agent 17, nice to see you. Up already? So eager to work with us?” he asked, heading straight for the fridge to grab himself a bottle of water. Judging from his soaked through sweater, he just finished with an early morning workout.

He was followed by Steve, who looked no better, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a small towel. He greeted her with a nod. ”Agent, good morning.”

“Good morning. I hope I’m not intruding?” she queried, looking at them.

Sam stared at her. “Of course not! Why would you be?“ He was cursing under his breath as the water bottle put up resistance against being opened.

“We’re just here to grab our after run coffee.“ Steve added, furrowing his brows as he glanced at the kitchen clock - it was barely past 6am. “How come you’re up so early, by the way? Is everything alright?”

Agent 17 smiled reassuringly. “Oh, yes, everything’s fine, thank you. It’s just the time zones.” she tried to shrug it off, sipping occasionally. “I know we only have our meeting at 7, but figured I might as well look around a bit before that.”

“A pretty ungodly time for a meeting, if you ask me.” The cap finally popped off and Sam could quench his thirst. 17 just smiled sadly back at him.

”Yeah, it’s because of me. I’ll have to call my higher ups and relay all the information to them. And since they’re six hours ahead in Berlin...“ she shrugged, looking meekly at the ground.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s not a problem.” he reached out, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “So you’ll have a second meeting?”

She nodded. “Mmm. Right after.”

Steve took out a cup for himself, the powerful hum of the machine filling the kitchen for a minute before a comfortable silence settled. He was about to take a sip from his long awaited coffee when his eyes wandered over to the mug in Agent 17’s hand, and he froze. “Where did you find that?”

The tone was almost accusatory, and Sam turned to look with a grin so wide it almost split his face in two. “ _No way._ ”

She stopped to stare at the mug in her hands, then proceeded to look from one man to the other. “I uh, I found it in the back. Why?”

Steve tried very hard not to smile, but it wasn’t working. “That’s Bucky’s cup.”

Agent 17 furrowed her brows in confusion, then her eyes widened and a crimson blush rushed to her face. “WHAT?! B-but... it was behind a small cardboard box!”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, that’s where he hides it from Clint.”

She emptied the rest of her coffee in one go, quickly gulping it down and wishing the ground would swallow her right then and there. As funny as the scene was, Steve took pity on her, reaching out and gently prying it from her hands “I’ll take this. Don’t worry about it.” He placed the mug in the sink to wash later and hide the evidence.

“Yeah, it’s not like Buck threatened Clint with a horrible, painful death if he stole it again and -”

“Sam!” he shot him a glare. He wasn’t helping. He was about to retort when Bucky entered the kitchen with a quiet gruff of a ‘good morning’ and everybody fell silent. Dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt damp with sweat, he absentmindedly started to gather the ingredients for his breakfast. Agent 17 swallowed as her eyes roamed over his muscled back. How could someone look this hot while holding a spoon in their hand? It was _blasphemy_.

Stopping briefly, Bucky quirked an eyebrow at his fellow Avengers. “Did I interrupt something?” even if the silence wasn’t unusual, Steve pressing a hand over his mouth to hide a grin was the definition of suspicious.

“We were just talking to Agent 17 here.” Sam gently nudged her shoulders.

At that, Bucky turned to give her a quick once over, as if he wasn’t fully aware of her presence until then. “Oh right, uh, good morning, Agent” he said apologetically.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes.” She found it hard to focus as she looked into those steel blue eyes of his. He looked incredibly handsome, even as his face scrunched up in frustration.

“Bucky. It’s Bucky. Only the new recruits call me Sergeant.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” averting her eyes, she tried to change the subject, hoping nobody would notice the blush that only crept further up her face. “How come you’re up so early too?”

“Couldn’t sleep, decided to workout a bit…“ he said with a nonchalant shrug, opening the cabinet and - _oh damn_. “Hey where’s my mug?! Did Clint take it again?” he started rummaging through the cups and dishes in search of it.

17 sent the best pleading puppy eyes towards Sam that she could muster and hoped the mischievous glint in his eyes meant she’d found a partner in crime. “Yeah, sorry about it, Tinman, it was me.” he took a casual swig of his water. “I couldn’t find my own at first.”

Bucky’s head snapped to him, closing the cupboard door with a little more force than needed. “And who said you can take mine?” Steve coughed to mask his laughter as Bucky pushed him away from the sink, looking at his mug in utter disappointment. “At least you could have washed it, you know!” He kept mumbling under his breath as he placed it in the dishwasher and 17 could have sworn she heard the words ‘ _you poor thing_ ’ and ‘ _he won’t take you again_ ’ as he did so.

This also seemed like the perfect time to escape further embarrassment, so she slowly started to back out of the kitchen. “Alright it, I think it’s time for me to go, I’ll see you at the meeting.”

“Won’t you stay and grab breakfast with us? There’s still quite some time before we start.”

“Yeah, don’t let Robo-Cop scare you away.” Sam winked and patted Bucky’s shoulder, who just swatted his hand away.

“Knock it off, Sammy.”

17 was already halfway out the door. “Thank you but uh, I wouldn’t want to disturb and I think I actually left something in my room. I’ll see you later then!” with that she waved and left them.

Bucky stared after her, shaking his head. “She’ll be nothing but trouble, I’m telling you.”

* * *

After grabbing a quick breakfast, Agent 17 immediately headed back for the briefing rooms. Peeking in, she saw Natasha and Clint at one end of the table, idly flipping through some of the files. Sam sat not far away, pressing his hands to a warm cup of coffee as Tony was setting up the monitors.

She took a deep breath and put on her best smile before entering - after all, she _was_ excited to work with the Avengers. “Good morning everyone!”

They all looked up and greeted her, Sam smiling “Hey, long time no see.”

She shot back a cheeky grin as she took a seat opposite of him “I know, we have a lot to catch up on.”

Shortly, Bucky appeared and headed for the empty chair between Sam and Nat. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, we’re still waiting for Steve.”

Just like Sam, he changed out of his workout clothes and - to Agent 17’s disappointment - replaced it with a clean shirt. His hair was in a low bun at the back of his neck, still slightly damp from an apparent shower. As he sat down, he looked over at Sam, a bit confused. “You’re having another coffee?”

“What do you mean ‘another’?”

17 glanced up just in time to see Bucky looking across the room right at her, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “Ah… nothing.”  
  
_Shit._

She flushed and quickly turned away. Whatever was displayed on the monitors suddenly became _very_ interesting.

She could still feel his eyes on her when Steve showed up, joining Tony at the front and wasting no time to finally start the briefing. 

“Alright everyone, we’ve received good news, and bad news.” he began, voice filled with a stern authority that had everybody paying attention to him. “Our scout teams couldn’t locate Quinn yet, but we managed to find his contact. A man by the name of William Bolton.” He nodded to Tony, who brought up the man’s profile.

“As far as we know, he’s acting like his right-hand man. He’s in charge of trying to build up a network for him and handling small scale orders.”

“Building up a network?” Sam asked. “Wasn’t he supposed to be hiding here?” They all turned towards Agent 17, who wasn’t sure what to say.

She crossed her arms, fidgeting a bit under the crossfire of their looks. “Our last information was that Quinn and his team had a well-built network of operations in the European Union… when we lost him in Barcelona, we assumed he simply wanted to disappear off the grid for a while.”

Pressing his mouth to a fine line and holding her under a scrutinizing gaze, Tony finally asked what everybody had trouble holding back for long. “So you had no idea that he might have connections here too? Or I don’t know, planning to move his base of operations?”

17 held his gaze firmly as she shook her head. “No, sir.”

With an exasperated eye roll Tony burst, “Okay, listen kid, cut the sir. We’re not some medieval cosplay group here.”

“I’m not a kid, _sir_.” She quipped in, making sure to press down on that last word, mischief in her eyes. Bucky just leaned back in his chair, enjoying the show.

“Fine, you’re not a kid. But call me sir one more time and you’ll be sleeping in the doghouse.” he scoffed, wagging a finger at her before pointing at Barton. “And I advise you to wipe that grin off your face!”

Clint just shrugged, an evil smirk across his face. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Back to the matter at hand, guys.” Steve knocked on the table to grab their attention. “Bolton happens to be in New York, but only for a few days. We need to make the most of this and go through his files, see where Killian is hiding.”

“Oh, and look,” Tony clapped his hands together in excitement. “He’s in Brooklyn! We can just walk there, grab what we need, and be back home before dinner! Say, Agent Munchkin, you’ve been on any recons before?”

_Agent Munchk-_

“HEY!!”

Nat scoffed as Clit shook the files still in his hand “Yup, she’s been on quite a few. “

“B-but...!”

Tony continued on as if nothing had happened “Great, great, you can be the bait. We’ll send you in, disguised as a potential new customer.” He furrowed his brows in thought, snapping with his fingers “What was this guy’s specialty? Arms dealer? Protection money?”

“Cyber attacks and robberies.” Steve helpfully added in.

“Cyber attacks, of course!”

After several attempts of trying to interrupt them, 17 just gave up and sank in her chair, the color slowly draining from her face. “ _Dammit…_ ”

“You sure you’re old enough to swear like that, Trouble?” Bucky asked, because honestly, he found entertainment in her exaggerated suffering. When 17 shot a glare his way, it just made him grin even more, nose scrunched and eyes crinkling at the corners. It also made his heart skip a beat when she stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation, but he promptly ignored that.

Steve nodded. “That’s settled then. F.R.I.D.A.Y., please create a fake profile for Agent 17.”

“And reserve an appointment for the afternoon!” Tony chimed in. “Oh and don’t forget to send out the floor plans for everyone.”

“Consider it done, boss.” the AI sounded almost cheerful to help in. Agent 17 wished she could say the same about herself.

* * *

While she admired the high-end technology of the Avengers Tower, seeing her boss’s face on an almost wall-sized screen was an experience 17 wouldn’t wish up on her worst enemies. Director Elisabeth Hansen was demanding, intimidating, and currently scowling down at her.

“So you’re meaning to tell me, Agent, that you still have no information about Quinn’s whereabouts.”

Trying to hold the woman’s gaze, 17 pulled her shoulders back, forcing on a calm and collected exterior. “We believe he’s still in Atlanta, sir, but haven’t acquired any details yet.”

“Belief is a matter of religion, we work with facts.”

She nodded, accepting her judgement. What else was there to do? If she wanted to be completely honest, she expected this. Ever since being assigned to one of the more experienced counter-terrorist groups, she’s been the target of Hansen’s belittling and constant doubt. Swallowing her pride, she simply said, “I’m sorry, sir. As soon as we have the intel, I’ll be able to tell you more.”

“I’ll expect a full report as soon as you are back from that mission. And don’t forget what I sent you for.”

“Yes, Sir.”


	4. Back Seat Jubilee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 17 finally has a chance to show her worth on the field. But work with the Avenger’s isn’t exactly how she imagined it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: bad guy getting a little handsy, nothing detailed or graphic

As they walked through the vast garage, Agent 17 couldn’t help but marvel at the selection of cars they kept at the Tower. Sam got into an impressive looking dark Audi with Bucky and Clint, wasting no time and starting the engine.  
  
She stopped to pull on her skirt in annoyance. She had to play a potential new client in front of Bolton and distract him long enough so the others could gather the intel from his office, which was alright by 17’s standards - she just missed her pants.

Natasha let out a displeased grunt behind her. “Stop doing that. You look fine.”  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, “ she mumbled, lifting her hands up in defense. “I’m just really nervous about it.”  
  
Hands on her hips, the Avenger looked over at her questioningly. “I thought you did recons before?”  
  
17 tilted her head to the side a bit, huffing, “Well, yeah, back with my team I did. But never alone and certainly not in…” she paused, gesturing at her outfit “stuff like these.”  
Nat rolled her eyes, but still, her expression softened at that. She walked over and reached out to straighten the collar of her blouse. “That’s the thing, you won’t be alone. We’ll all be there and help you out if something happens.”  
Putting a hand under her chin, she lifted her face a bit, tilting it slightly towards the light to check her makeup one last time. “You’ll be fine.” she insisted, landing a smack on her hands as she reached down again. “And _stop doing that!_ ”  
  
17 pulled away with a yelp. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But just so you know, I _still don’t like_ my name.”  
  
“Why? Josephine’s nice.” she teased.  
  
Tony called out to them impatiently, leaning on the roof of their car. “Hey, you girls are coming, or what? When I said I want to be back by dinner, I meant it!”

* * *

Bolton’s office in Brooklyn wasn’t too far off, yet the ride was anything but what Agent 17 expected. She used to think the Avengers were professionals. Now? She was having second guesses.

Steve was trying to focus on driving while Tony was busily explaining to him about the perfect cheese-to-patty ratio in a burger. He suddenly turned back from the passenger’s seat. “Say, Pipsqueak, have you ever had a cheeseburger?”  
  
“Uhm... “ she blinked, confused, and Steve let out an exasperated sigh. This was starting to give him a headache.

“Tony, I’m pretty sure they have cheeseburgers in Europe.”

Snapping his head back to him, Tony frowned “And how would you know? Had any cheeseburgers in Europe before?”  
  
“No, but…”  
  
“Exactly my point.”  
  
17 turned to Natasha, wide-eyed with shock. She needed help. Or at least some kind of confirmation from the Universe that this was all real. The spy just rolled her eyes and mumbled ‘ _welcome to my world_ ’.

Sam’s playful tone crackled through the comms. “ _I’m so happy I’m the other driver._ ”  
In the background, they could hear Bucky growling while Clint complained that he should have brought popcorn for this.  
  
“Alright, Capsicle, that’s it.” Tony slammed his hands on the dashboard. “Bump into them! Make it look like an accident!”  
  
“Tony, I’m not going to…“ Steve paused mid-sentence to listen, feeling the last remnants of his patience slipping through his fingers. “Clint, are you snacking during a mission again?!”

Barton didn’t even bother to chew properly before answering. “Worry about your own, Cap. This is the cool car.”

The retort was followed by Sam and Bucky howling with laughter. Tony turned to give the girls a wink.  
  
“Don’t worry. They _wish_ they were the cool car.”

  
_Oh, boy._

* * *

They stopped in front of an impressive-looking office complex while Sam parked a few streets away.  
  
“Alright, kiddo, make mommy and daddy proud, will ya’?” Tony said as he climbed out of the car. After adjusting his tie in the mirror, he looked up just in time to see Clint and Bucky heading to the hotel opposite of him, trying their best to keep a low profile.

Steve turned to give 17 a warm smile. “You alright?”  
  
She nodded firmly. “Yeah, I’m okay.”  
  
“You’re not worried for us, are you, Papa Bear?” Nat asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“No, just checking if everyone’s alright.”

“We’re all good, Cap, don’t worry. Oh, and we’re here by the way.” it was Clint, opening the door to the hotel room they rented.  
  
“Yeah, it’s always ‘ _all good Cap_ ’ and ‘ _of course I memorized the floor plans Cap_ ’ before everything flies out the window.”  
  
“Hey, that was one time, okay? And in my defense, that Italian museum was a labyrinth.”

“Was that the time he got lost and almost cried?” Tony recalled.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead, pick on the guy with the hearing aid, real mature.” Clint sulked with a gruff.

While they argued, Bucky took his place near the windows. He really hated recons - especially paired with Clint, who had some unexplainable grudge against shutting up. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun. Grinning, he watched through his binoculars as Sam walked into the building. 

  
“Pidgeon’s in the nest. I repeat. Pigeon’s in the nest.”  
  
_“Very funny, you trash can.”_ Sam mumbled barely audibly.  
_  
_ “And, that’s my cue.” Natasha sighed, shooting a quick glance at 17 “Wait three minutes, then come after and go to the reception, as we agreed.” 17 watched her go and mentally repeated everything they went over at the briefing. Nat was to hide on the same level as Bolton’s office until she could distract him. Sam would stay in the lobby as their lookout, and Tony was waiting at the roof to come and get them if anything went south. And if that wasn’t enough, Bucky and Clint kept an eye on them from afar. 

Sam sat down on one of the couches in the waiting area, grabbing the newest issue of Forbes off of a table. Ironically, it had Tony on the front. He saw Natasha from the corner of his eye as she “accidentally” bumped into someone.  
  
A perfect act, really, as she dropped her files, scattering papers on the floor and making a show of how sorry she was for being clumsy. To be fair, the poor guy never had a chance - and never noticed how his card was slipped from his pockets as he turned around, waving at Nat with a dumb smile after helping her out. She sent a wink to Sam before going through the gates.

* * *

At the hotel, Clint leaned against the window, throwing a handful of M&M’s in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.  
  
“You think she’ll be alright?”  
  
Bucky shrugged, trying hard not to think of all the ways a simple mission like this could go awry. “ _Ne znayu, no govoryu tebe, ot neye budut problemy_.” [I don't know but I'm telling you, she's trouble.] _  
_  
“I hate to be the one telling you boys, “ Nat said “but we can hear everything.”  
  
“I also speak Russian, Sergeant Barnes.”  
  
Bucky cursed.

* * *

After Natasha confirmed she’s in position, Steve gave 17 the green to go. With newfound confidence, she walked up to the receptionist with a charming smile, waiting for her appointment to be confirmed. She searched for Sam amongst the few business men lingering in the lobby. He smiled at her over the magazine.  
  
Clint encouraged her through the comms “Take it easy, kid, you’re doing well so far.”

She tried to relax, taking a few deep breaths and trying to distract herself by examining the inside of the building in more detail. It was exquisite, to say the least. The furnishings gave off a cozy, yet business-like feel, and everything was spotless. Neat, tidy and perfect, with just a touch of elegance. Sam broke her line of thought as he groaned through the comms.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me” he said as a tall, handsome man in an expensive-looking suit walked into the building from the street - and headed straight towards Agent 17.

“What is it? Something wrong?” Steve tried not to sound anxious, but he was clearly on edge. He didn’t like the idea of waiting outside in the car, but they couldn’t risk somebody recognizing him.

“It’s him. Bolton. The posh bastard who just walked in.”

Said posh bastard spread his arms in warm welcome

towards 17. “Ah, you must be Josephine Stein, correct?” The only thing wider than his embrace was his smile.  
  
17 nodded her head slowly. “Mr. Bolton, thank you so much for accepting this sudden appointment. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”  
  
“Please. Call me William. And trust me“ he reached for her hand, pressing a chaste kiss on it while looking her straight in the eyes. “, the pleasure’s all mine.”

“I think I’m going to gag.” Clint whispered to Bucky, who just sighed.  
  
“Please, just shut up and keep an eye on them.”  
  
“But did you see that? Who the hell kisses hands these days?”  
  
“Can I shoot him already?”  
  
“No, Buck,” Steve’s voice was stern. “we’re not here to shoot Bolton.”  
  
“I was talking about Clint, actually.”

* * *

“What’s the situation, guys, gimme something.” Tony was growing impatient. And frankly, hungry too. He shouldn’t have talked about cheeseburgers earlier.

Clint grabbed the binoculars off of Buck, prompting a glare from him. “Uhhh… they got out of the elevator. Fifth floor. Nat?”  
  
“I’m here. He’s taking her into his office now.” she stood not far away at the end of the corridor, keeping a safe distance. “Let me know if the coast is clear.”  
  
Bucky and Clint had a clear view of the large room where Bolton led 17. The leather sofas, the bookshelves packed to the brim with expensive and rare books were the embodiment of a luxurious aura that he obviously used to impress his guests. The fact that he closed the door on themselves just screamed ‘stupid’ though.  
  
“They’re settled down. The door’s closed too, so you have a clear way to go. There’s a large desk in the next room, so that has to be his private office.”  
  
Natasha looked around once more, making sure nobody saw her before quietly slipping in.  
  
With his heightened senses, Bucky could see everything that was happening in the opposite building. He watched as Natasha made her way to the smaller room, carefully going through drawers and files. Meanwhile, 17 played her part perfectly. It was a little surprising, he had to admit it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d completely believe she actually wanted to hire Killian to break into the National Bank’s records on offshore account holders. Not to mention the fact that she was somehow able to tolerate Bolton’s sickening tries at flirting with her. He had the displeasure of hearing it all in detail.

“Oh, you’d get along splendidly with the Boss.” Bolton purred. “I’m really sorry that he couldn’t be here today, but he has some private business to take care of elsewhere.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m just glad my contacts could find you on such a brief notice.” 17’s voice was silky smooth, and she had him wrapped around her little finger. It almost infuriated Bucky when he saw Bolton shamelessly put a hand on her knees, wiggling closer to her. What the hell was Nat still doing?

“You guys better hurry it up, or I’ll throw up here on the roof.” Tony complained. 

Bucky couldn’t agree more. “You heard him, Nat. Hurry up.”

“I’m trying, but there’s a slight problem.”

"When you say, slight, do you actually mean it?"

"No. I'm screwed over here. His laptop is not here and all I could find are just useless files and old bills." she took one quick look around to confirm she went through everything. "It's gotta be somewhere else."

* * *

17 had about enough of this game, even though Bolton was laughably easy to keep entertained. The flash of a coy smile was enough to get him squirming in his seat. 17 had to pretend she didn’t care when he was getting handsy with her, boasting about the achievements of Killian in Europe - the very same achievements for which she and her team tried to chase him down. It made her stomach turn just to think about it. Grabbing intel was one thing, but trying to flirt was certainly not in her repertoire. She could kill for her pants right about now.  
  
Stiffening in her seat, she lost track of Bolton’s current monologue as soon as she heard Nat’s predicament. A quick glimpse around and, _oh shit_ , that very laptop was right there, on a large desk across the room.  
  
“Is everything alright?” Bolton asked, slight concern in his voice.  
  
She cleared her throat, putting on her sweetest smile for him. “Oh, yes, I’m sorry, Mr. Bolton. I just noticed you have your laptop in here? I hope I didn’t interrupt you with your work.”

She tried not to panic when the comms went eerily silent, as Bolton flashed him another one of his smirks. “It’s William, please. And don’t worry, a pretty thing like you would never interrupt me. Would you like to have some coffee while we discuss the... details for your order?”  
  
“Sure, I’d love that.” she watched as Bolton got up - not before he gave her another hungry once over - and left the room. 17 almost jumped in surprise when not two breaths after Natasha suddenly appeared in the door.  
  
“Fucking finally” she whispered, running over to the laptop.

* * *

Everyone held his breath as Nat sneaked into the guest room, heading straight for the expensive mahogany desk in the corner. Clint kept a close eye on Bolton, but still, Bucky couldn’t help growing more tense by the minute. This was dragging on for too long.  
  
“Hurry it up, sweetheart. That bastard’s not gonna be away for too long.”  
  
“Shut up and let me work.” she growled, powering up the laptop and plugging in one of Tony’s special USB sticks. As the seconds dragged on, 17 grew more and more anxious, keeping her eyes trained on the door.  
  
“Are you done yet?”  
  
Everybody groaned in unison. “Clint, let her work.”  
  
“Okay, take your time, but Bolton is heading back.” he added casually. “Thought you might wanna know.”  
  
“I need a little more time than this.” Nat hissed, glancing at the door quickly while she continued typing.  
  
17 bit her lips, desperately trying to think of something, _anything_ , to avoid getting caught. “Clint? How long until Bolton gets back?” she asked.  
  
“15 seconds… 19 tops.”  
  
She quickly got up, looking back at Nat, mouthing ‘sorry about the clothes’ before dashing out of the office.

* * *

Clint extended a bagful of candy towards Bucky while watching the unfurling events like it was some bad sitcom. Bucky found himself taking a few pieces. 17’s timing was perfect. As soon as she stepped out, she collided with the poor sod carrying the coffees - making it land on their clothes. It ruined her skirt, just like Bolton’s expensive shirt, and Bucky took great pleasure seeing that bastard get so furious over it. 

Of course, Agent 17 - no, Josephine, because her act was flawless - apologized, talking about how she just wanted to see if he needed help, and how utterly sorry she was, offering to help clean it. The hand she placed on his back to try and steer him away from his office seemed to calm Bolton, but it made Bucky’s brow twitch, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. Nat’s careful whisper broke his musings.

“Alright, Tony, I need you to get me, I’ll be at the left window on the fifth floor.”

“Ugh, why do I have to get you?” he whined, but he made his way down to her nonetheless.

“Because it’s all your slow little ‘just-plug-this-in-and-voila’ USB’s fault that I took so long.”

“Fair enough.”

Bucky listened to their bickering as he heard Bolton’s voice in the background, cutting the meeting short and suggesting a reschedule. And he couldn’t have been happier.

* * *

By the time 17 made it out of the office, Steve drove off with Tony and Nat before they raised more suspicion than necessary, so she quickly made her way over to the next street, spotting that signature Audi parking further down the street.

Suddenly, a blonde blur passed next to her, with a shout of ‘ _I call shotgun!_ ’ followed by a huff and a growl from Bucky as he grumbled something. Sam was waiting for them, and 17 couldn’t help but lean back and sigh in relief as she climbed into the seat behind him, next to Bucky. The adrenaline started to evaporate from her body and now she just felt tired.

Sam looked at her through the rearview mirrors with a teasing smirk. “You did good, young Padawan. You can relax now.” 

She let out a breathy laugh. “I’m fine. Really.”

Clint turned around, cheeks full of candy “So how did you like it?”

Bucky reached forward and smacked the back of his head. “Manners, Barton, at least chew before you swallow.”

“Ow, hey, stop hitting!” he rubbed his head, sending a nasty glare towards him and a few flying M&M’s.

Sam cleared his throat, prompting them to stop. “Anyway… you know, Agent, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. How come this is what you enjoy doing? And for such a big name like S.H.I.E.L.D.?” he paused, glancing back towards her as he waited for the lights to turn green. “No offence, of course. It’s just pretty rare to see people your age interested in something like this.” Sam sounded friendly and casual. And while 17 rarely enjoyed talking about these things, she found herself at ease when answering. She shrugged, absentmindedly looking out the window.

“I guess it’s what I always wanted to do. There was…” she paused for a second, licking her lips and thinking over exactly how she should phrase it. “,let’s just say that something happened that made me realize that a high-end office job is not something that I want to do. And after that, it was all about working hard towards it, and not a question of enjoyment.”  
  
“And do you think it was worth it?” Clint asked, still snacking and a hint of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
“Honestly? I don’t know yet. But I really hope that one day, the things I do will save someone’s life. Then I know I’ll definitely feel like it was worth it.”  
  
“Aww, that’s deep” he cooed.  
  
“See, Clint? _That’s_ the kind of drive you’re missing:” Sam slapped at his shoulders playfully before taking a turn with the car, getting them closer to the Tower. They shared a few jokes while 17 reached forward to steal some M&M’s for herself.  
  
They all failed to notice Bucky’s eyes roaming over her the whole time.  
  
And that was okay by him.


	5. Oh I've Felt Love but I Ain't Found One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. A brooding super soldier might have bubbly feelings to contain, while a cheerful little rookie might carry something darker within herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: vague hints at depression (nothing detailed or graphic)

As ironic as it was, they did make it back in time for dinner. Agent 17 barely had enough energy to change out of her clothes and take a quick shower - if it wasn’t for the powerful smell of the coffee from earlier, she would have skipped it all because, _ god, wasn’t this a bother _ ? It felt like a century had passed between yesterday and the mission today. She groaned. Who’s idea were time zones, anyway?    
  
Hurrying down the corridors, she made it to the cafeteria just in time to grab something to eat. There were a few lingering people here, Agents of different levels and backgrounds talking casually. Not one of them spared a glance as she took some half-cold pasta and made her way to an empty table at the very back. She felt drained, slumping down in the chair and trying hard not to think of the report she still had to write.   
  
As she ate in silence, her thoughts kept circling back to the Avengers. Especially a certain super soldier with blue-grey eyes. She could have sworn he was looking at her while they were driving back to the Tower, but couldn’t figure out why. Did she do something wrong at the recon? Sam said everything was fine, and if Barnes had a problem with her, he probably would have said so, right?   
  
Then again, he was the Winter Soldier. Tall, brooding,  _ handsome, muscular and _ -   
  
Oh, no. We’re not going there.   
  
She forced down her remaining food instead, taking back the tray and the empty plates while stifling a yawn. Reluctantly, she trudged back to her room to type in and send that report.

By the time she finished, she could barely keep her eyes open, so she dragged herself to the bed, collapsing on it with a loud grunt, face buried deep in the pillows. Sleep, now  _ sleep _ , that’s what she needed. She was just about to relax when the phone in her pocket dinged with an incoming message. Then another.

And  _ god damn it all _ , another.   
  
“Alright, alright.” she growled, turning over to lie on her back and fishing out her phone to check who it was. All the messages came from one of her teammates, Agent 48.

_ Hey, Schatzi.* _

_ How are things going? _

_ You OK? _ _  
  
_

17 stared at the texts with a sad smile. 48 was the oldest in their group, and also one of the most experienced Agents at the European Headquarters. He always took care of everyone around him, and while nobody named him team leader, they all looked up to him. Glancing at the clock, she huffed while typing back a reply. It was close to 9 in New York.  _ What are you doing up at 3 am? _

_ That’s none of your business ;) Now answer my question, please. _ _  
_ _  
_ Ah, he wasn’t up for her usual avoidance games. Climbing under the covers, clothes and all, she got more comfortable, dropping on her side with a tired thump.  _ I’m fine. Don’t worry. _ _  
_ She watched the little dots bounce around the screen before an answer came through. 

_ Just checking. _

Because you’re worried, 17 thought with a worn out frown. The weight of today started to pull her down, but the gravity of her own thoughts dragged her even deeper. Even though the gesture of 48 getting in touch made her smile, she felt tears pricking in her eyes. She quickly reached up to wipe them away, blaming them on the fatigue, and not on the fact that despite  _ some _ of the Avengers being friendly, she felt alone. Completely, utterly alone in a city too big and too loud, with it’s messed up clock and strange ability to amplify her already overwhelming emotions of feeling small and alone.

With a few lingering sniffles, she typed in one last message and set an alarm for the morning before curling up, stiff and sore in a bed much too cold.   
  


* * *

  
After a morning workout and a hot shower, Bucky felt refreshed and ready to tackle the day. The best part of it all was that everybody else was training, or spending their free time in their rooms, leaving him to have the kitchen all to himself and enjoy a quiet breakfast.

He grabbed a bowl and a box of muesli before walking over to the basket on the counter filled with fruit. Apples sounded like a good choice today.

Before he proceeded, though, he looked around with narrowed eyes and only after making sure nobody was around did he reach up to the top shelf in the cupboard. From behind a pack of Doritos, he pulled his mug out. He was slowly running out of ideas on where to hide this thing.

While the coffee machine was working, he put his breakfast together, bringing it to the table, and when he finally sat down, he felt like in a cheesy commercial. A steaming cup of coffee, a bowl full of cereals and fruit, waiting only for him to finally dig in.

Idly browsing through his phone while eating, he checked his schedule. Since Tony was still busy analyzing the data from yesterday, it allowed everyone a breather until they called for them. Already done with a workout, he had plenty of time to just lounge about. He could finally finish that book that Steve lent him a few weeks ago. Or watch another episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, maybe. 

He wondered what Agent 17 was doing.

She was on his mind more than he’d be willing to admit, letting his thoughts and imagination run wild. He wasn’t sure what this was, because she wasn’t anything special.

_ Or was she? _

She seemed to hold her ground well yesterday - for a rookie, one might add - and during the car ride back home Bucky found he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she sat there, in fine clothes ruined by a coffee stain, stealing candy from Clint and talking to Sam like they were old friends meeting again. There was something about her, the way she so effortlessly slipped into their life just a day ago.

But that didn’t mean anything, Bucky had to remind himself. She was an Agent, sent over here for a mission.

There wasn’t anything special about that.

With a huff, he got up, trying to shake his thoughts free of her. He was just closing the dishwasher when he heard someone approaching. Soon, Agent 17 appeared at the kitchen entrance, looking like the walking image of restless night. Her long brown hair was messy even in a ponytail, eyes tired, and that khaki jacket from her first day tied around her waist. As soon as she noticed him though, her entire posture changed and quickly, unconsciously, she put the mask of a friendly expression on. Bucky knew all too much about things like that not to notice, but he decided to be polite and ignore it.

As long as he wasn’t the reason behind that frown, it was fine.

_ What? _ No. Focus, Barnes. Just make some small conversation and then leave.

“Morning, Agent. Here to have breakfast?” he asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Good morning.” she said with a tired smile, then shaking her head “Thank you, but I’ve had some at the canteen earlier. I only came up here because I’ll have a meeting at,” she paused, brows slightly furrowed while trying to calculate “at 9, I think. Thought I’d grab a coffee before that.”

She was about to reach for the cupboard when Bucky spoke. “We keep some extra mugs on the bottom shelf for guests, by the way. There’s a green one you can use.” He hid his smug grin behind his own mug of coffee, watching as she reddened in an instant, sputtering out apologies.

“I-I’m so sorry! I swear, I didn’t know it was - “

“It’s fine.” he said, trying to calm her. As protective as he was over that mug, he found he couldn’t get angry about it. Not this time, at least. Not at her.

“Still, I should have asked.” she added, taking out one of the aforementioned cups for herself, eyes averted shyly as the coffee brewed.

Bucky watched her, chewing her lips and shifting around and when the machine fell quiet, the thick web of an uneasy silence settled around them. She shot him a weak smile, taking her coffee and about to turn around. This is the part where he should say something funny, or ask about her day, right?

“So, uh, how do you like it here so far?” he quickly blurted out, and she stopped in her tracks, looking at him surprised.

_ Yeah, real smooth Barnes. _ No wonder the newbies run away from you.

“Oh.” she seemed surprised at the question. Or maybe just at the fact that it was Bucky asking. “It’s fine, I guess.” she shrugged, looking a little abashed and at a loss of words.

Bucky smirked, eyebrows raised at her. “You got a chance to work with the Avengers, and it’s just fine?” There was a playful mock in his voice.

She shot an annoyed little pout at him that frankly, only made her cuter, but there was amusement in her eyes and Bucky felt relief at that. “Well, if you say it like that, it makes it sound bad.”

He put up a hand in defense. “I’m only repeating what you told me. I’m innocent.”

“As if.” she rolled her eyes playfully, walking back to take a spot next to him, and Bucky could feel his heartbeat quickening at the closeness of her.

“It’s actually not that bad here, though.” she carried on, leaning on the counter slightly and looking into her mug. “The view is nice, and the food’s good. The company has a tendency to give people weird nicknames, but all in all, a solid 5 stars. Highly recommend it.” she said with a sage nod before looking up at him mischievously.

Ah, two can play that game, Bucky thought, grinning widely. “Yeah? Well, if it’s any consolation, our new colleague isn’t half bad either. She’s a transfer from Europe they say?” 

“Huh, interesting.” A smirk on her lips, and a galaxy of curiosity in her eyes.

“Has a tendency to steal stuff, though.”

At that, she bursted out laughing, and Bucky almost hated the way that sound made his stomach flutter. “Fair enough” she quipped. “I deserved that.” Her voice turned a shade more serious before continuing. “Though, I hope I didn’t mess up too badly yesterday.”

Bucky tried to sound neutral, almost laid back as he shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Trouble. You did fine.” And how was that not an understatement? Sure, the recon mission was short and went fairly smooth, and rookies are assigned tasks like these all the time. There wasn’t supposed to be anything exceptional about it, and yet, wasn’t it remarkable how she handled it all? How the anxiety in her melted away, taken over by that confidence that radiated out of her when he first saw her.   
  
That same confidence was somehow missing right now as she lifted her gaze up, and Bucky couldn’t help but get lost in her eyes. Whoever said that brown eyes were boring clearly hadn’t seen hers before; because he felt bewitched by them, a color like burnt umber with flecks as dark as the coffee in her hands.

_ Oh, he was screwed. _

“Thank you.” she said, a smile slowly gracing her lips. “I was a little afraid, to be honest.” she admitted, rambling on a little, accent fumbling over her words. “It’s kind of been my dream to become a special agent and do stuff like this, and it’s nice to know I don’t completely suck at it.” Sarcasm laced her voice as she rolled her eyes, drinking from her mug again.

“Oh, yeah, I remember you talking something about that yesterday.” he recalled.

“Mhm. Basically, ever since I was a teenager, I wanted to be part of… “she drifted off slightly, making a face at how cheesy it all sounded now “, something bigger, helping others. That kind of stuff.”

“And, how is it? Everything you ever hoped?”

She seemed to think that over, lips pursed in concentration before she answered. “I dunno. Maybe? Sometimes it feels like I bit off more than I can chew, and it’s hard. And I know I’m just, you know” she shrugged, staring down at the mug in her hands, fingers fidgeting over the handle as her voice faltered slightly “, a rookie, with my, what? Half a year at S.H.I.E.L.D.? But I want to keep trying.”

Bucky felt so sorry for her. Even though it’s been a while, he still remembered his first days at the Tower. Sure, he had Steve, and honestly, thinking back now, he could see how Sam went out of his way to make him feel welcomed and included here when he arrived. But he still felt cut off and isolated at times. More than he’d like to admit. 

He saw that in Agent 17 standing next to him now. Hunched over her coffee, eyes cast down. Yet he couldn’t help but watch in awe because since the moment she appeared, something shifted in him and he couldn’t quite explain it. He’d like to get to know her better, that was for sure, because talking to her felt easy now.  _ So easy _ that Bucky couldn’t remember when was the last time he felt so relaxed around someone new. 

  
But something small and evil in the back of his mind told him it would be in vain to hope for something like that.

Interrupting his train of thought, Clint walked into the kitchen, a large pitcher in hand filled halfway with some foul black liquid that he currently sipped with a pink straw. “Morning guys.”   
  
“Uh.. good morning?” Agent 17 looked at Bucky with a raised eyebrow, but he just shrugged. Because let’s be honest, this was normal. She turned back to Clint. “What’s that thing you’re drinking?”   
  
Clint stopped rummaging through the drawers for a second, looking up. “Hmm? Oh, this? It’s coffee.”   
  
Somehow, that just made things even more confusing. 17 tried to remember the amount of caffeine needed to be considered poisoning. She was sure that pitcher was dangerously close to it.

“Not a fan of waking up early, huh?” she asked.   
  
Clint furrowed his brows. “Early? What are you talking about? It’s past 9 already.”   
  
17 blinked at him in surprise, the color slowly draining from her face. “...what?”   
  
Bucky glanced at the clock. “Yeah, it’s almost quarter, actually. Oh wait, wasn’t your meeting at -”   
  
With a squeal, she pushed herself off the counter, making a beeline for the doors.

“ _ I’m so, SO dead!! _ ”

As if remembering something, she darted back to Bucky from the entrance, pressing her mug in his hands.

“Take this! I don’t need it!”

With that, she ran off and was almost out the doors before quickly turning back again.

“I’m so sorry! I really need to go! B-but I really loved talking to you!” she blurted, spinning around and hitting her forehead against the doorframe with an audible  _ BONK _ .   
  
Clint hissed and Bucky was about to go help her when she held up a hand, rubbing her head with the other and blushing crimson to the tip of her ears. “I-I’m good! I’m good” she mumbled, sprinting off towards the meeting rooms.   
  
About three seconds later, Bucky burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching the mug to his chest tightly lest he drop it, as Clint watched with his mouth hanging open.   
  
“Okay. Who are you, and what have you done to the real Barnes?”

* * *

It was late afternoon when Tony called them together. Agent 17 was one of the first ones to arrive at the designated briefing room and she sat there now, absentmindedly rubbing at her forehead - which still hurt a little - fidgeting around in her seat and glancing at the door anxiously.

When she finally saw Sam and Bucky enter, she couldn’t contain herself, waving at them with a goofy smile. Sam beamed back at her with a wide grin, asking about her day but she barely registered it as Bucky… Well, maybe it was just her imagination, but Bucky’s face seemed to light up when he noticed her and she felt a warmth spreading in her chest at the sight, the cold isolation of last night shrinking back to an unpleasant memory. It also made up for the reprimand she received for being late.   
  
Sam plopped down next to her, Bucky settling on his other side, and 17 found that making conversation with them wasn’t so intimidating anymore. Soon, everyone arrived and Tony clapped his hands together to grab their attention.   
  
“Alright kids, we’ve got big news. Especially for you, Munchkin,” he pointed at 17 with raised eyebrows and a challenging smirk. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., fire up the screen, please!”   
  
With a defeated sigh, 17 swallowed her retort - she’s been called worse, though Tony didn’t have to know about that. Sam leaned in closer, whispering something about Bucky being called “Greased Lightning” once, earning him a smack on the chest from the super soldier. She turned back towards the both of them with a twinkle in her eye, hand flying to her mouth to try and suppress her giggles. Bucky pressed a finger to his mouth, trying his best to shush her until a rolled up paper ball hit him on the head. He looked up with an icy glare at Tony.   
  
“Eyes on me, children, you can play later.” he said with a mock hurt in his voice. “So as I was saying, we still don’t know exactly where this bastard is hiding in Atlanta,  _ but _ , we managed to dig through Bolton’s files and apparently, Quinn will have a meetup with some of his friends six days from now.”

  
Behind him, F.R.I.D.A.Y. brought up a satellite view of the city, zooming slightly on the south. 

“He’s currently having some argument with the local big shots, but they will try to seal a deal near an abandoned warehouse in Hapeville.”   
  
Nat leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “Hapeville’s right next to the airport, right?”

“Pretty much. He probably wants to have an easy getaway in case things don’t go according to his plans.”

Steve, who has been sitting at the front, spoke up at that “That means we need to act quick if we want to catch him. We can’t let him slip away and we can’t cause a commotion. This needs to be clean.”

“So, what’s the plan?” 

“Depends. Agent 17, we’d like you to first contact your team and see if they have any recent information we might have missed, or if they have a preferred course of action for this.”

Straightening in her chair, she nodded. “Of course. I will send them a report right away, but the meeting might have to be pushed to tomorrow morning, I’m afraid.”   
  
“Tomorrow morning it is then. Expect more briefings over the next few days, “ Steve said, standing up from his chair and closing up “and be sure to read up on the files we’re sending out until that. Dismissed.”

As they all left the room, 17 had trouble containing her mixed feelings. On one hand, she was excited that Killian was found, and that there was a chance of finally catching him. Still, as she walked off towards the elevators, waving as the Avengers left for their own rooms, she couldn’t help but notice the pair of blue eyes lingering over her for a few seconds longer, causing a pang of dismay to erupt in her.

Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the feeling of that gaze all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schatz (literally “treasure”) is one of the most common German terms of endearment. Schätzchen or Schatzi mean “small treasure”.


	6. Just Can’t Help Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The enhanced hearing of a super soldier certainly comes in handy during missions - but what if they overhear a private conversation they weren’t supposed to know about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: none

The short week left until the mission flew by too quickly for Bucky’s liking. He barely saw 17 apart from the briefings where the whole team tried to come up with the best plan in order to corner Quinn. 

  
On luckier days, he caught at least a glance of her, like leaving the cafeteria on Tuesday, smiling with crumbs around the corner of her mouth when she saw him. Or yesterday as he walked into the gym with Steve; they bumped into her as she was just finished with a workout. The breathy ‘ _ hi _ ’ she sent them had him so entranced he almost walked into a wall, much to Steve’s amusement. But they could never be alone again, like that morning.

He wasn’t sure what this was, but as the mission day drew closer, a frustration and uneasiness settled in his very core.

* * *

They flew to Atlanta one day ahead and if nothing else, the sheer ecstatic excitement of 17 to be on the quinjet was something to revel in. Almost skipping up the ramp, she plopped down in the empty seat closest to him. He watched with raised eyebrows as she struggled with the belts, getting more and more tangled up in them.

“Need any help with that, Trouble?”

“No, I’m fine.” she huffed, trying to hold on to her dignity as she tugged the belt above her shoulder.

“Careful, Short Stuff, don’t strangle yourself.” Tony quipped, ruffling her hair as he passed by, taking his place at the cockpit of the jet.

“I’m not short.” she grumbled, finally yanking the belt free and clicking the buckles in place.

Tony swiveled around in his seat, brow quirked in amusement. “Really now? How high are you again?”

“I’m five - “

“Yeah, you’re a Shortcake.” he deadpanned, turning back around before she could even begin to articulate a comeback. 

She slumped down with a pout as Sam came up to her, laughing. “Don’t mind him, it’s how he shows love.”

“Lies!” Tony shouted. “I have no heart.”

Shaking his head, Sam sat across 17. “So what’s all the excitement for, huh?” 

She wiggled in her seat like a little kid, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s my first time on a quinjet.” she whispered almost conspiratorially.

Lips pursed slightly in concentration, he asked, “What do you guys fly with then?”

17 scrunched her face up in disgust. “We get private planes. Which are nice enough, don’t get me wrong,” she was quick to add. “But way more boring than this bad boy here.”

Tony looked back over his shoulder. “Oooh, should we do a barrel roll for you then?”

Steve cut him off faster than a bullet. “No! We will not do a barrel roll, stop teasing her.”   
  
The billionaire sent a disappointed frown at him. “Right, sorry, I forgot the Fun Police is here.” 

Bucky leaned back in his seat as everyone talked around him, but he was only half-listening. It all felt distant, as if he was struggling underwater, his mind sluggishly recalling the last few days and all the chances he missed talking to Agent 17. He missed that morning full of easy talk and playful little jests, and it made him feel something too close to regret in the depths of his soul. If they caught Quinn tomorrow, that meant that 17 would head back to Europe as soon as possible.   
  
But that was always the plan. This was supposed to be a short mission - a quick trip, almost too small an errand for the Avengers. They had to pay their due after all those times the European Headquarters helped them and still, that didn’t mean he can’t miss her. The way she joked with Clint sitting across her now, throwing a paper airplane his way that she hastily folded from an old note full of doodles she found in her pockets. It missed the mark entirely and managed to hit Natasha on the head, which just added to their fun as they all laughed. Well, except for Nat.

But she made it easy.  _ So easy _ . And Bucky wanted that, and nothing more.

Right?

He wasn’t sure anymore.

* * *

At the hotel, they all gathered in the room the boys shared, laying out a map of the area. Notes and markings were scribbled across the enlarged satellite image, where the warehouses huddled close together in an abandoned yard.

Steve stood next to the small coffee table, voice serious as he asked them to go through the details once again. “Alright. According to the intel, the meeting will take place at 0800, sharp. We need to move in an hour before that and take our positions. Clint?” he looked at the archer who sat next to 17 on the edge of Bucky’s bed.

“I’m to search through the building on the left,” he pointed with one of his arrows at a rectangle on the map simply dubbed ‘A’ before continuing. “then get on top, get a good vantage point and be on the lookout.”

Steve nodded briskly, turning his attention to 17, brows raised in a silent question.

She pointed at building ‘C’ “I’m to search the warehouse on the eastern side of the site, look for a safe position and await orders there.” 

“Very good.“ Steve said. “Tony, Sam, you will be our worst-case scenarios. We need you to keep a close watch on the roads leading to the southeast and the one leading north back to Midtown.” Both men nodded in unison.

“I’ll take the north one.” Sam said. “Tony’s quicker if they try to go towards the airport.”

“Nat will stay in the car, parked a mile to the north in the neighbourhood. We don’t know how many men he’ll have around. If we need to call off this mission - “ he tried to ignore the way 17 stiffened even at the mention of that possibility “then we might have to follow them silently. So you need to sit this one out and help us coordinate.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the table. “Relax and stop worrying boys. I’ll be fine, you go have fun.”

Bucky rolled his eyes in mild irritation at her nonchalance, but Steve carried on. “I’ll move in with Buck, see if there're any good positions for us to take. And remember everyone,” he looked around one last time “we need to make sure to gather enough evidence tomorrow before capturing him. If we don’t have sufficient information against him, we can’t press charges. So everyone stays put until we give the green to go.” he paused, waiting a bit before adding. “If nobody has any questions, then that is all for today. Rest well, we’ll move out early tomorrow.”

* * *

Trying hard not to be rude as she wiggled around, 17 attempted to get into a more comfortable position while being sandwiched between Clint and Bucky on the backseat of their dingy rented car. Bucky seemed to be in a foul mood ever since last night, visible in the way he had his eyes narrowed in annoyance at the world. Natasha on the other hand seemed as calm and collected as ever in the driver's seat.

“I still don’t get what you’re so worked up about.” she said, turning to look at him in an almost ridiculing fashion, to which Bucky just huffed.

“It’s nothing, okay? I just got a bad feeling about this, that’s all.” If the way he clenched his fists was any sign, it wasn’t nothing. 

Unexplainably, 17 felt at fault for this. She thought back on the morning not a week ago, when she was alone with him in the kitchen, a peculiar fondness filling her at the mere memory of it. There was something gentle about him; soft and consoling that made her crave for more.

It’s not that they haven't talked since then. Time and again, they bumped into each other and as troubling as it was, she found her stomach doing a funny little flip every time. Whenever they met, he was sure to smile at her, or send a look at her over their morning coffee while the others around them were too busy to notice the blush creeping up her face and the shiver down her spine.

She felt silly for trying to chase this feeling, chiding herself on sleepless nights, struggling to convince her own heart that this was just affection towards someone who showed her kindness and nothing more.

_ Oh _ , but she feared it was so much more. Even now, sitting in this small shared space next to each other, his thighs seemed to sear and burn against her own, eliciting the most inappropriate of thoughts. Even heat seemed to just add fuel to the guilt that gnawed at her heart for not making an effort of talking to him in private again. For if they caught Killian today, that would surely mean her immediate transfer back. And with that… no, she doesn’t want to think about what change that would bring.

* * *

A good twenty minutes later, Natasha pulled into an empty parking lot and sent them on their way. It was close to 7 now, so they had to pick up their pace. More than once, Agent 17 found herself glancing towards Bucky, but she’d always turn away as soon as he looked her way. She needed to concentrate now. Apologies for missed chances and lost time can come after the mission.

Wading through tall grass on what seemed to be a yard abandoned decades ago, they could make out the half torn fence around the site. Instinctively, they all fell quiet as they got closer, trying to make as little noise as possible. Suddenly, Steve abruptly held up a hand, motioning for all of them to stop and lie low.

“Wait.” he whispered. “Buck, do you see that too?”   
  
Bucky narrowed his eyes, looking past the buildings.   
  
“Shit.” he mumbled under his breath.

17 tried to follow their gaze when she noticed it too - a few cars could be seen in the distance, parked between the buildings.   
  
A few beats of silence, before Nat queried through the comms.   
  
“It hasn’t been 15 minutes since I sent you out and you’re already in trouble?” It’s like they could see the smirk that accompanied her question.

Steve furrowed his brows. “Yeah, we’ve got a situation. Somebody already seems to be here.”

“What? That’s not possible, they were supposed to meet at 8!” Tony protested.

Clint rolled his eyes. 

“Well, it’s definitely not the local book club having a reunion over here.” 

“Do you need us to get closer and help?” Sam sounded more than ready for a little action.

“No, I think you should stay over the roads for now. We can’t know for sure if it is Quinn. Might still have a chance if we sneak in like we planned.”

Clint looked at Steve expectantly, “So what’s the new plan then?”

“There’s no new plan, for now. You and Agent 17 go through the warehouses on the sides - make sure no one can see you, and get into position, just as we agreed. Buck and I will try to get as close as possible, see how many men they got.”

Crouching low, they made their way to a part of the fence where they could all squeeze through. 

Steve looked over at 17. “Whenever you are ready, Agent.”

She nodded with steel determination in her dark eyes, taking her gun out of its holster, holding it up slightly as she ran towards the edge of the far building, crouching low and disappearing around the corner.

“Alright, here goes nothing.” Clint muttered, heading for the opposite side.

* * *

Crouching low, 17 made her way down the side of the building. About halfway through, she carefully scanned around, risking a look inside. The warehouse was empty, save for a few lingering barrels and crates left to rot here years ago. Some local kids decorated the place with the ugliest graffitis she ever saw, and the huge puddle of dirty water was a clear sign the roof needed some dire fixing too. 

Looking across to the windows on the other side, she saw the cars parked in front of the center building. Not a single soul was around, not even a guard or a driver waiting inside the car.

Good, that meant nobody spotted her. She jumped through one of the broken in windows, quickly yet silently making her way to the stairs. Concrete crumbled under her boots as she sneaked up to the first floor, gun held at the ready. This area was almost in worse condition, with its shattered windows and trash scattered around everywhere. She could get a good vantage point from here, but it was too close for her to feel safe enough, so she swiftly climbed another set of stairs.

She promptly checked through all the rooms of what must have been an office floor once. After making sure she was alone, she took her chances with a room that was relatively clean with its window still half intact. Walking across the shattered glass covering the floor, she squatted down against the wall - it provided her with an unobstructed view on the cars and the small yard in the center of the area.

Not a minute later, the comms crackled slightly, followed by Nat’s voice. “How’s it going over there? Are you all in position?”

Clint was the first to reply, speaking in a hushed tone.

“The building was completely stripped and there wasn’t anyone here. I’m on the roof now with a clear view on the entire site.”

“The east warehouse is completely empty too.” 17 reported. “I’m on the second floor in an old office. Third window from the right.”   
  
“Gotcha.” Clint said, slight amusement in his voice.

She rolled her eyes, a smile forming on her lips, but it melted off as soon as she took notice of the eerie quiet.

Natasha was aware of it too.

“Steve? Bucky? Where are you guys?”

Minutes passed without an answer, the silence almost unbearable. When Steve finally answered them, 17 let out a breath she wasn’t aware of holding.

“We’re at the side of the main building.” Steve whispered carefully. “I can see Killian, with about seven other men inside.” 

All the muscles in 17’s body went tense, adrenaline rushing her system at the bare mention of the man's presence. She squirmed around a bit, trying to stretch the tension away as she craned her neck, eager to spot him, but the place she picked had no view on the center warehouse.

“Two of the men seem to be his bodyguards. The others are with the local mob boss.”

_ Bucky. _

17 swallowed as she heard his low, husky voice. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the task ahead. She can’t screw this up. Not this, not today.

“What are they doing?” Nat asked.

“They’re just chatting over the place. Probably met an hour earlier than they first planned to.” Bucky cursed under his breath. “Fuck. I think they’re just wrapping up a deal. Hang on.”

“Clint, they’re heading out. Keep a close eye on them.”

“Got it. Anything else, Cap?”

A beat of pause. Another.

“No,” Steve said finally. “Stay there, and just monitor them. We will not engage.”

“ _ What?! _ ” 17 couldn’t contain herself as she whisper-yelled into the comms. “You can’t be serious, we need to catch him!”

“Hold your temper, Tiny, or you’ll get all of us in trouble.” Tony’s voice was missing its usual snark, a clear sign that this was not an advice, but an order. 

Bucky scoffed, and even though Steve wasn’t happy about her reaction, he tried to force patience in his voice. “It’s okay, Tony. Let her be.”

But the calmness in his voice just made 17 even angrier. She couldn’t believe he was really calling this off. They might have arrived late to collect proof against him, but here he was, the man she chased across the globe, completely unaware of their presence. What she wouldn’t have given for an opportunity like this back in Europe.

“Can we reconsider this, please?” she insisted, refusing to accept this so easily. “Sir, with all due respect, my team spent months tracking him down, and -”

“I understand that, Agent,” Steve cut him off, his voice strict and hard. “but you are working with my team now, and that means you follow  _ my  _ orders. I’m not taking risks over faulty intel, so I’m ordering you to hold your position.”

17 gripped her gun tighter, blood boiling in her veins as she watched Killian slowly appear in her line of sight. He was easy to spot among the others with his ginger hair and neat beard. He was a tall, well-built man and, hell, if he wasn’t such a bastard, and the circumstances different, one might even consider him attractive. But all 17 could think about was catching the man and putting him behind bars. She couldn’t care less if he was handsome or not.

Against her better judgement, she weighed her options, and before a sane thought could emerge and stop her, she darted out of the room, heading for the next one with a better look over the cars. She forgot Clint had a clear view on her position, reminded by his panicked protests as she ran up to the wall, shakily pressing herself against it. 

She knew she fucked up royally when the Captain briskly ordered her to stay where she was until he got there.

Steve held his anger until now, but going against orders on a mission and risking a team was something he didn’t tolerate. Signaling to Bucky to take over, he made his way towards the eastern warehouse. 

Bucky had no idea what had gotten into 17, but decided to deal with that later. He crawled closer to the cars, and for once, he was thankful for the super soldier hearing as he easily caught their conversation.

“ _ The place is all yours then. But I gotta ask this - are you sure it’s safe enough for you to move in here? Last time I checked, they were pretty close on your heel, Killian. _ ”   
  
The Irishman simply scoffed. “ _ You mean those idiots back at S.H.I.E.L.D.? Don’t worry about them, I got that all under control. _ ” he grinned as he shook hands with the other man.

Bucky watched as they drove away, left wondering about what he had meant.

* * *

Steve waited until the coast was clear, making sure the cars were far enough for him to come out safely. As he walked up the stairs, he felt the rush of his anger fading slowly - Agent 17 didn’t seem like the kind who would disobey an order without a good reason. On their first mission, everything went smoothly and up until they got so close to Killian, she seemed to do fine. He feared there was something behind this.

He found her leaning against the window in the cramped little room Clint saw her run into. When she heard him stop in the doorway, she looked up briefly, then went back to fiddling with a small piece of wood she must have found lying around.

Steve took a deep breath, reading himself for what was to come as he placed his hands on his hips. “What am I to do with you now, huh?”

She shrugged, looking every bit like an upset child, and Steve had to remind himself just how young she really was.

“This is usually the part where they yell at me.” she suggested.

“I’m not going to yell at you. I’d just like to know, what were you thinking?” he asked sternly, but not unkindly, an undertone of disappointment to his voice.

When she didn’t answer, he continued. “It was reckless, and you risked getting us all caught. And for what?”

“‘dunno.” she mumbled, eyes cast down.

“I know you’re smarter than this, Agent.” he added. “But I’d like to have an explanation. Is there something I should know about?”

She finally lifted her gaze to meet his eyes and for a moment, Steve swore he saw hesitation cross her face. He waited with bated breath for her to speak up, but Natasha’s voice interrupted her in the comms.

“Tony just spotted them on the east road. You boys are okay?”

“Clint and I are going to go through the main warehouse, see if they left anything behind. But a pickup would be nice.”

After a few seconds, Natasha asked. “Did something happen?”

Bucky just scoffed. “Yeah, a whole lotta’ trouble, that’s what happened.”

Steve closed his eyes, silently wishing Bucky would learn when to shut up. He pressed the button on his comms. “We’ll be down with you shortly.” 17 took that as her cue to flee, pushing herself away from the windows and making a beeline for the doors, but was stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulders.

“I’d like to finish this conversation when we get back. Okay?”

There was no irritation in his voice and for once in her life, 17 wished there was. She wanted him to be angry, to yell at her - she knew how to deal with that, knew how to swallow pride and self-esteem. But patience like this made her shiver and shake in her very core. She mumbled something like an ‘ _ okay _ ’ before rushing down the stairs.

* * *

The ride back home was an awfully quiet one. 17 sat as far away from the others as possible, looking worn and avoiding anyone’s gaze. Clint tried to coax her out of her misery, but she would always give curt answers and go back to brooding on her own.

Tony followed Quinn after he drove away, but lost him at the airport. The Atlanta International Airport was listed as the busiest in the world and he got a taste of that when he tried to go after Killian - by the time he convinced the guards at the gate to let him in, he vanished. Even now, hours after the morning fiasco, he barked orders to F.R.I.D.A.Y., trying to track all the flights he could have taken while going through the security cameras. He was furious, but had to admit, the man sure had a talent for disappearing.

By the time they got back to the Tower, the mood got even worse. Something unspoken and heavy hung in the air as Fury ordered them in for a debriefing. 17 walked silently, glancing at Steve every now and then, but when she wanted to follow him into the room, Fury stopped her with a hand to her shoulders.

“Not you, Agent. You’re to report to Hansen immediately. She’s waiting in line for you.”

Bucky’s heart almost broke the way she visibly paled, nodding with a quiet ‘ _ Yes, Sir _ ’ and making her way down the hallway.

* * *

Trudging down the corridors with a stack of filled out reports in his hand, Bucky kept looking for Steve. He hated the paperwork after missions and just wanted to get over with it. Passing next to a door that was left slightly open his enhanced hearing picked up on somebody talking in German. He immediately recognized 17’s voice, and he started wondering why her debriefing hadn't ended yet when he stopped dead in his tracks upon making out a few sentences of the conversation.

“ _ Are you sure it's okay to talk about this here? _ ” It was Agent 17, talking in a hushed tone.

“ _ Don’t worry, this is a private channel. Nobody will be able to trace it back. So talk. _ ”

Bucky’s mind started racing with the wildest of ideas on who 17 could be talking to. It was an older male voice, but she mentioned no details about her teammates before, or her bosses. He knew this conversation was not something he was supposed to hear, and something deep within him told him he should just carry on.

But at the same time, there was a tingle on the back of his neck, his senses telling him that something wasn’t right and despite his better judgement, he found himself straining to hear more.

Agent 17’s voice was hesitant when she finally spoke again.    
  
_ “Well, ever since I’ve gotten here, some of the Avengers have been suspicious of me - I’ve reported that before.” _

She paused slightly, and Bucky held his breath back. Tony has been especially mistrustful towards her at the beginning, and Nat was wary too when she saw the locked files, but…

_ “Most of them are friendly with me now.” she suddenly continued. “But some of them are still distrustful and I just…” _ she signed, her voice sounding weak and distraught.  _ “I’m not sure what to do. I’m worried it will hinder the mission.” _

The older man replied confidently.  _ “You’ll have them wrapped around your finger in no time. Just concentrate on what you were sent for.” _

Bucky felt like being frozen on the spot, his stomach dropping. 

_ What they sent her for. _

Time seemed to slow around him while his thoughts sped with a dizzying speed. Blood rushing in his ears, he tried to recall all the events of the past weeks in this new light and it was as if suddenly, everything gained a new meaning. The almost unbelievable friendliness, the way she got along so quickly with everyone. All the times she disappeared to one of those meetings with her higher ups - and Quinn.

_ I got that all under control. _

He had so many questions, but before he could get an answer to any of them, a shout down the corridor interrupted him, making him jump, as if jerking awake from a nightmare. It was Steve, calling out to him and asking about the reports. Bucky gave him a halfhearted nod, feeling cold sweat trickle down his back before turning back to the door, catching the moment as it clicked shut.

_ Fuck. _


	7. The Opposite of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers feel like they’ve been compromised, they take action to get to the bottom of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: vague hints at depression (nothing detailed or graphic)

“Are you certain you heard it right?” Steve asked once more, his gaze shifting over Bucky sitting across from him. He was slumped down in the chair, his usually bright blue eyes now clouded with contempt.

Briskly, he nodded. “I’m sure. Been thinkin’ about it ever since, but there’s just no other way I can explain this.”

“It does give rise to concern,” Steve said, feeling a headache building as he pinched his nose. “but I feel like there’s something still missing, something she’s not telling us.”

“What?” he growled. “Like being a double agent?”

“You can’t know that, Buck. Not until we’ve heard the full story behind this.”

Bucky slid further down his chair, reluctantly crossing his arms over his chest with a huff. Ever since overhearing that conversation yesterday, he’s been avoiding Agent 17, afraid he wouldn’t be able to hold his temper and questions around her. He spent the better half of last night restlessly tossing around in his bed, mind desperately trying to make some sense of it all. But the more he thought it over, the more reason seemed to slip from his fingers.

He felt deceived, used, and utterly stupid. He wanted to believe this could all be explained, but the warmth that seemed to spread in him at the thought of 17 before has now dissolved and gave way to something sour instead, making him choke back on the bile rising in his throat.

“Look,” Steve continued when he couldn’t bear the scene in front of him anymore “what I mean is, when we were in the warehouse and I asked her to explain herself, she looked like she wanted to tell me something. I went to her room last night to talk, but she said she wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t press further.”

Bucky snorted. “Right. Not feeling well. Doesn’t that sound suspicious to you, pal?”

With an annoyed sigh, his friend continued. “It does, but whatever this is about, it had her very upset, Buck. And no matter what happens, we need to allow her a chance to explain herself.”

Averting his gaze, he shifted in his chair once more. “So what’s your plan?”

“First, you stay put. I mean it.” he emphasised, pointing a finger when he protested. “I’ll go talk to Tony, see if he has access to the security footage of the room. Until then, try to rest. You look worn out.”

“I’m fine.” he hissed.

Standing up, Steve gave a hard pat to Bucky’s shoulder as he passed. “Don’t worry about it, alright? We’ll figure this out.”

* * *

Last night was a hazy tangle of hours spent awake crying, punctuated by pauses of uneasy, nightmare-riddled sleep. Memory of discordant dings of messages left unread, the phone’s screen lighting up just often enough to mockingly remind her how  _ well _ yesterday’s briefing went.

Getting out of bed was a chore rewarded by almost falling over a pile of clothes on the floor. She ought to do some laundry, soon.

Her last order had been to wait for a briefing with the Avengers, but she wasn’t sure when that was to come. Yesterday evening, Steve sought her out here, and as much as she wanted to talk - no, tackle him with apologies, she simply wasn’t in any condition to present herself. With a voice cracked from crying too hard and for too long, an excuse of feeling ill slipped out easily enough to make him leave.

But she wanted the truth now, or at least part of it. Even if she couldn’t tell him everything, surely, she could at least try to explain her sudden burst of insubordination, hoping the Team would accept it. She tried to pick some clothes that still looked at least acceptable, trusting her zipped up jacket to hide an errant stain on the front of her shirt as she made her way to the shared kitchen for some much needed coffee.

The area was strangely quiet for this hour - since she had no time set for a meeting, she allowed herself to stay in bed until almost 10. She reminded herself that surely, F.R.I.D.A.Y. would have noticed her if she was needed, but the unusual silence set her on edge, pressing down on comforting and logical thoughts with the force of a tide to give way to doubt and uncertainty.

With a tired monotony, she was about to start preparing her coffee when Bucky walked in. He stopped as soon as he noticed her, frozen in the doorway for what seemed like an eternity before 17 broke the silence.

“Hi, Bucky.” she said weakly, subconsciously reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ears. She forgot to put it up in a ponytail, long brown hair curling up slightly at the ends where they met her shoulder.

Gruffly, he mumbled out a reply, walking into the kitchen with some hesitation in his steps. 

Guilt washed over 17 at the sight, feeling at fault for this sudden break between them. Tension built over the past few days settled uneasily in the air, growing with every passing minute spent in silence. 

Bucky tried to pretend along of having something to do in the kitchen but in all earnest, he wanted to turn on his heels and leave as soon as he spotted her. His mind played over the things he heard only yesterday - a yesterday that felt like eons ago now. He wanted to avoid confrontation with her, but he couldn’t help the annoyance stirring up in him once again. Trust came hard to him - slowly, too, in the past. And he let his guard down for a girl who, once again he tried to convince himself, was nothing special. A girl who looked the sweetest with cookie crumbs all over her face, coffee stains spoiling her clothes, and a clumsy tendency to forget about the existence of door frames. 

How far that morning talk felt now, Bucky thought, muscles tense and the plates of his metal arm shifting and whirring with his roiling anger he tried to contain.

Licking her dry lips anxiously, 17 couldn’t help but notice how he ignored her. There was something unspoken in the air, an inner turmoil she just wished to understand, and maybe even apologize for. Clearing her throat, she tried to draw his attention, aware of the way he almost jumped at the sound, alert, as if a predator ready to pounce.

“Look,” she started, swallowing hard the self-pity and shame fighting for attention in her belly now. “I uh, I just wanted to say I’m… I’m sorry, and I wanted to ask, if, if there’s anything wrong?”

She felt so silly, and small, the way she stumbled over such easy words, hoping they will still have some power over the strain between them, but the dark, flouting glare he shot at her made a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me,  _ Trouble _ ?” he asked coolly.

Confused, she furrowed her brows at him. “S-sorry?”

Lord knows, Bucky tried to keep his seething rage at bay. He really tried. But something feral took over him now, a side that demanded answers to soothe this confusion, this feeling of deception and misplaced trust. 

“See, something funny happened yesterday,” he began, taking a step closer to her, something wicked flashing in his eyes “when I was walking on the corridors, a door was left open. And I heard you talk to someone. On a  _ private channel _ . Care to explain that?”

Taking a shaky breath, eyes wide with shock, 17 tried to process what Bucky just said. She tried to remember everything from the briefing, everything she said, wondering in panic just  _ how much _ Bucky had heard or if she had let anything compromising slip. Vaguely, she remembered the door being left open, but  _ when _ was that exactly? Hansen certainly has hung up by then.

She swallowed, looking up at him. “Bucky, I don’t know what exactly you heard, but I don’t think you understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” He downright growled the last word, taking another step closer. Frightened by his sudden outburst, 17 had to push herself against the counter to keep a little space between them.

Bucky knew it was probably unfair to lash out at her like this, but somehow, he couldn’t muster a single thought to care. For once, he had no patience for Steve’s games of playing it safe. He wanted answers, here and now.

She shook her head. “I don’t think it means what you think it does. Whatever you heard was part of a private conversation that I’m not willing to share. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, so we’re not gonna’ talk about what they sent you for, huh?”

“Bucky, what are you even-”

He started to lose his patience, knuckles white from clenching his fist too hard. “Look, I tru--- “ he stopped himself, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “ _ We _ trusted you. The least you could do is to be honest with me now.”   
  
17 couldn’t believe it. She still had absolutely no idea about what he was talking about. Ever since the mission, the entire team gave her side glances and suddenly grew distrustful towards her and it was infuriating. There was simply no way there was any sense to this.   
  
Bucky waited for her to say something,  _ anything _ . But she just stood there, pretending to be dumb about it. As if another realization hit him, he looked at her with a scowl. “Is that why your files are locked then?”   
  
“What do you mean? My files are not locked!”   
  
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” he seethed.   
  
“I’m not lying, Bucky! Whatever it is you’re talking about, I have no idea! Please, just tell me what this is about!” she pleaded with him.    
  
“You know full well what this is about! So here’s the deal, either you come out or I will tell everyone what I overheard. It’s your choice.”   
  
Agent 17 never felt smaller and more insignificant in her whole life, with Bucky towering over her. Yet she crossed her arms, standing her ground against him. She had nothing to explain to him, or to anyone else. She thought at least Bucky _ liked _ her, but she realized just now how stupid that idea was. There was nothing to like about her; not here, not in Europe, not anywhere. Not by anyone.   
  
**“Is that a threat?”** she asked in an almost eerily calm voice.    
  
Bucky mimicked her stance, looking down at her with a determined expression.   
  
“It sure seems like it.”

“I can’t  _ fucking _ believe you.” 17 spat, and when Bucky’s answer was a silent, frozen-blue gaze, she let out a huff of anger, marching out of the kitchen without another word.

* * *

Not half an hour later, 17 found herself back on the conference levels again. She got a notification from F.R.I.D.A.Y. that the Captain wanted to talk to her whenever she was available. And well, it’s not like she had anything else to do right now, anyhow. She carefully looked around before getting out of the elevator. She wanted to avoid Bucky at all costs. Or, well, anybody else, really. She just wanted to talk to Steve, see if she could still save herself out of this somehow.

Quickly making her way to the designated meeting room, she knocked briefly before opening in. She froze mid-step as she took in the room. All the Avengers were there, eyes trained on her every move as she stumbled inside. She noticed Bucky from the corner of her eye, leaning against one of the desks with a grim expression.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked, her voice slightly shaking.

Steve spoke calmly to her. “I’m sorry for inviting you here so abruptly, Agent, but there’s something we need to talk about.” he looked at her with nothing but kindness, “Bucky said he overheard something yesterday from a conversation you were having,... something that sounded quite compromising and we’d just like to know what it’s about. We’d like to watch back the surveillance of the room, but wanted to allow you to speak up before that if you’d like to.”   
  
Her eyes darted around the room, shifting slightly closer to the door.   
  
“It’s just watching back a recording, and nothing more.” Sam said, reassuringly. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”   
  
She crossed her arms chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes clouded over from the tears she tried to hold back. She sent one last glare towards Bucky, before shrugging. “Whatever. Go ahead, I have nothing to hide.”

Sam just nodded to Tony.   
  
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., please play the surveillance from Room 305.”

* * *

_ As soon as Agent 17 entered the room, she was greeted by the projection of Hansen's unpleasant face, complete with that of her four teammates back in the distance. 48 greeted her with a rueful smile, while Agent 42 didn’t even try to hold back the triumphant grin from his face. _

_ Despite a twisting sickness rising in her stomach at the sight, she corrected her posture and promptly saluted. _

_ “Ma’am. Agent 17 reports as ordered.” _

_ With a disgusted frown, she ordered her to stand at ease, demanding a full mission report. After a deep breath that was meant to be relaxing, but instead, drove her nerves even wilder, 17 recalled the events of last night, starting with the jet flight to Atlanta, through their last reciting of the plan until this very morning, where Killian was finally within their reach.  _

_ “And the Captain decided to just let him leave, is that it?” Hansen interjected in the middle of her sentence, causing her to slip over her words, barely able to explain herself. _

_ “Y-yes, Ma’am,” she answered, voice just on the edge of faltering. “He ordered us to stay in position, un-” _

_ With a dramatic sigh Hansen interrupted her and pressed a hand to her forehead, as if 17 was merely a building headache she had to suffocate. _

_ “I’m not sure you remember our last briefing, Agent. You were to catch Quinn, no matter the cost, or I will initiate your removal from the Team. Did I not make myself clear enough then?” _

_ Swallowing hard under her steely glare, 17 tried to muster her remaining resolve. _

_ “With all due respect, Ma’am, I was following orders and-” _

_ “Your number one order was to catch Quinn as soon as possible, not prance around with the Avengers while your team is hard at work back in Europe.” Briefly, 17 saw as Agent 9 nudged 42 with her elbows, trying to stop his snickering, but she still heard it. She heard it loud and clear. “The way I see it, you simply decided to lay back on your ass and miss a chance you might never get again. Do you have any explanation for yourself?” _

_ She tried overcoming the rising sickness, the bile in her throat, the self-respect she felt like she never had in the first place as she mumbled. “No, Ma’am. Nothing more to add.” _

_ A scowl before Hansen threw her hands in the air as she burst into complaints. “This is exactly why I had doubts about sending you, Agent. I just  _ knew  _ you’d screw this up!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Suddenly, 17’s head snapped up. Jaws clenched, she looked up with new determination in her eyes. _ _  
_ _  
_ I knew you’d screw up. _  
_ _  
_ _ It slowly started to add up. _ _  
_ _  
_ I knew you’d screw up.

_ She mustered the best poker-face in her repertoire while Hansen went on, praising her teammates and mentioning well-deserved promotions once Quinn was caught. 17 was smarter than to believe they included her on that list. _

_ “I expect results on the matter soon,” Hansen concluded “or your removal will be accompanied by a second reprimand. Dismissed.” _

_ Biting her lips to keep back a retort, she saluted as the images on the screen faded. _

_ After the call ended, 17 visibly deflated, turning around and heading for the door. She opened it and was about to leave the room when F.R.I.D.A.Y. notified her of an incoming call. _

_ Brows furrowed, she absentmindedly let go of the door handle, turning back to the monitors. There was no picture, just the voice of Agent 48. _

_ “Hey, Schatzie. Thought I’d give you a call.” _

_ Surprised, 17 was quiet for a few seconds before answering him. “Hey 48, what’s up? Where are the others?” _

_ “It’s just me, the others are not here anymore. I just wanted to ask how you’re holding up.” _

_ Groaning, 17 let her head fall back in annoyance. “Ugh, I’m  _ fine _ , okay?” _

_ “Like hell you are, don’t give me that crap.” _

_ Pausing slightly, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to talk about this here?” _

_ “Don’t worry, this is a private channel. Nobody will be able to trace it back. So talk.” _

_ “Well,” she huffed “ever since I’ve gotten here, some of the Avengers have been suspicious of me - I’ve reported that before.” _

_ She paused slightly trying to think how to really phrase this, 48 humming in agreement in the background. _

_ “Most of them are friendly with me now. But some of them are still distrustful and I just…” she signed, her voice sounding weak and distraught. “I’m not sure what to do. I’m worried it will hinder the mission.” _

_ “You’ll have them wrapped around your finger in no time. Just concentrate on what you were sent for.” _

_ 17 opened her mouth, about to answer, when she heard a noise coming from outside, like a shout. She turned back towards the door. _

_ “What is it?” 48 asked. _

_ “Uh, nothing, hang on, I think I left the door open.” she skipped quickly over to close it, then walked back to one of the conference room’s chairs and sat down tiredly.  _

_ “It’s just so hard here, you know?” _

_ “Come on. You’re pretty, you’re witty, super friendly and easy to talk to! Just be yourself, Shatz. They’ll come around in no time. Don’t worry about it.” _

_ “You make it sound easy, but it’s not like that.” she argued. _

_ A sigh, but this time, from the other end of the line. “I don’t know what to tell you then. I’ve been trying to help you out, but you keep fighting with me over this. I told you to stop giving a damn and just do your best.” _

_ “Easy for you to say.” she growled. “I’ve been trying my best and look where that got me! I disobeyed a direct order from Captain Fucking America for Hansen! I was scared shitless when he came up to get me. I thought he would kick my ass and send me back right then and there.” sniffling, she rubbed at her eyes with the palm of her hand. “Not that it matters you know, now that Hansen practically admitted to sending me here so she can kick me out herself.” her voice cracked at the end of the sentence and it was obvious she was trying to fight a sob breaking out from her. _

_ “Look, I know Hansen has been giving you a hard time, b-” _

_ “A hard time? A hard time, is that what we’re going to call this now?” 17 raised her voice in disbelief. “Ever since I’ve been put in her team, she’s been trying to get me fired! And don’t even think for a second that I don’t know what’s whispered behind my back ‘cause I know all about it. I see the way everybody looks at me, l-like I was some kind of joke to be there!” _

_ “Schatz, we’ve talked about this before. You’re just young, and- “ _

_ “So what? W-what if I’m young?” she quickly wiped at her eyes again, voice trembling. “Does that somehow invalidate all the work I’ve done? All those years I spent studying, and training? Do people think I did that for fun?” _

_ “17, I know it’s hard for you, but you have to stop whining about this.” _

_ “Whining? Oh, sorry, I would hate to put you through that.”  _

_ Before 48 could say anything else, she hung up the call and stormed out of the room. _

* * *

As Agent 17 walked out of the camera’s range, F.R.I.D.A.Y. stopped the recording. Bucky looked at her now, arms still over her chest, hunched over and her long hair framing her face. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line, and it was apparent she was barely holding it together. Something terrible lurched in his stomach at the thought.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by 17’s weak and faltering voice.

“Permission to leave, Sir, please?” 

Bucky swore he felt his heart break in two. Steve took one look around the room, his gaze lingering on him a few seconds longer before nodding to her.

“Permission granted, Agent. Go and rest.”

Tony waited until she shuffled out of the room before exclaiming. “Boy, did we treat her like shit, or what?”

“Speak for yourself,” Sam argued. “I was nice to her. Unlike some.” He made sure to send a knowing look towards Bucky, who just growled.

“ _ Don’t. _ ”

“Hey, hey!” Steve tried to talk over all of them until they finally stopped and looked at him. “We can’t change the way we acted towards her, the same way she can’t either. So let her rest, and we’ll talk to her in a few hours.


	8. I Was Wrong When I Met You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes can be acknowledged, corrected, and even forgiven. Often times, an honest talk is all you need - and a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: none

She cried so much she felt like throwing up. No, not just felt like it. She literally started to gag not twenty minutes ago, throat choked full with tears and regret. Sniffing, she tried to think of what to do next. Hansen gave her one last, loathe-ridden, spat out chance to finally capture Quinn - but will the Avengers want to work with her now?

Would Bucky even want to look at her now?

Bucky. Bucky.  _ Bucky. _ Filling her mind, her thoughts, her heart, her chest until it seemed like bursting violently apart.

She fought the next sob threatening to bubble up in her throat and made a dash for the bathroom, stumbling over her clothes still littered around the room. She was wearing her last clean shirt - and nothing else - while her pants hung from chairs or haphazardly clung to the edge of the bed. All this hidden by the darkness behind the closed blinds. There was no friendly way to put it, the room was a complete mess.

She quickly brushed her teeth and coughed back on some strong, minty mouthwash, hoping to get the taste of shame out of her mouth. She was in the middle of washing her face when she heard the first knock on the door, making her close the tap and listen carefully. When she didn’t answer, there was a firmer knock.

Holding her breath, she waited. If it was Bucky...

“Agent 17, it’s Steve.” His voice was deep and reassuring from the other side of the door. “We’d just like to talk.”

She let out a sigh of relief.

“Come out, Munchkin, we won’t eat you.”

A hiss. “ _ Tony. _ ”

“What?”

Thinking over the past few hours, she had to admit she screwed up, multiple times - and as afraid as she was of what was to come, a talk really didn’t sound too bad right now.

“I’ll be right there!” she yelled, but as she exited the bathroom, she froze, horrified at the state of her room. Cursing under her breath, she randomly picked up a few things from the ground, kicking the rest under the bed, managing to knock off a book from the bedside table that landed with a heavy thump. 

“Is everything okay?” even the worry in Steve's voice just made her feel ashamed of how much she neglected cleaning.

“Y-yes! Absolutely!” she squeaked, covering her bed with a blanket, leaving half of a plush unicorn sticking out from under the pillows. It was the best attempt she could make and was about to reach for the doorknob when she realized she forgot something. Something important.

“ _ Shit _ … I mean, just one second!” and with the grace of a newborn giraffe, she quickly yanked on her pants.

“We can come back later if you’d -”

She opened the door with a huff, quickly pushing her messy hair behind her ears.

“I uh, hi. Sorry about that.” she said, leaning against the doorframe, hoping she blocked enough of the view. “Anything I can help you with?”

“First, we’d like to apologize to you for earlier and -”

She held up a hand, causing him to stop. “There’s no need for that. I should be the one to apologize, after everything.” Chewing carefully over her words, she shrugged. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused, I should have spoken up about the details of my mission.”

“Yeah, a lot of mess could have been avoided that way, and - “ Steve shot a glare colder than the Antarctic at Tony, so he swallowed the rest of his sentence. “...yeah, you know what? Forget what I said. We’re even.”

“So…” she approached carefully, dragging out the word. “we’re good?”

Steve nodded firmly. “We’re all good, Agent. In fact, we’re here to invite you to join our trainings from now on.”

Blinking, she looked to Tony, who just shrugged, then back at Steve. “I uh,” she started, softly stumbling over her words. “I’m not sure that’s really necessary, Captain.”

“ _ Steve. _ ” he said, pressing the word. “And we’d really love if you did. If we’re going to work as a team on this case, we need to train together as one, too.”

“We had a vote on it and everything. And everybody agreed.” Tony sent her a conspiratory wink. “And I do mean  _ everyone _ .”

Steve elbowed him playfully in the sides while adding. “Before the training, we’d also like to have a short meeting, if it’s alright with you. Just a talk. Let bygones be bygones?” a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he asked that, softness in his blue eyes.

17 pursed her lips, taking a deep breath. She really had to clean this mess, and there was no better time than the now. She was still unsure about how the rest of the Avengers would react to this - especially Bucky - but she felt compelled to go through with this.

“Okay. Okay, sure.” she nodded.

Steve’s smile widened. “That’s great. Welcome to the Team.” he patted her gently on the shoulder and she couldn’t help but blush slightly under all that kind affection. 

“Thanks, I’ll -”

“Okay, before you say anything else,” Tony interrupted, “I’m sorry, and you’ll hate me, but I can’t take you seriously with that shirt on. Does everything you own have a S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on it?!”

Blushing even deeper, 17 looked down at her shirt before crossing her arms over her chest. “Uh, no, I’m just… I didn’t bring too many clothes here, sorry.”

“Uh-huh, you listen to Led Zeppelin, squirt?” 

She shrugged. “They’re not bad…”

Eyes closed, he took a deep breath. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. You stay put, I’ll bring you some real clothes.”

“What Tony means is,” Steve interjected, “is that you’re free to use any of the machines down in the laundry room. There’s still a few hours until training anyhow.”

“No, I mean what I said.” he glared at Steve and then looked 17 in the eye. “Seriously, Munchkin. Don’t go anywhere before I come back. Hear me? If you leave this room before I get back, I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. sound the  _ alarms _ .”

Agent 17 bit her lips, trying to keep the mischievous grin off of her face. “You got it, boss. I’ll be right here.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.” 

“See you at the meeting, alright?” Steve asked softly.

She nodded confidently, smiling. “Yeah. I’ll be there. And uh, thanks again.”

Closing the door after they left, she felt more relieved than she could ever remember. A meeting. Just a  _ talk _ . That was something. Turning around, she started to collect her dirty clothes in a pile, fishing out a sock from under the bed as there was another knock. She couldn’t help but smirk.

“I gotta give it to you, Tony, that was quick.” she quipped, opening the door. “...oh.”

“Hey.” Bucky greeted.

* * *

Waiting a few minutes after Tony and Steve left, Bucky worked up the courage to walk up to 17’s room and knocked on the door. He wasn’t sure what to say - ever since he saw her storming out of the room, he couldn’t even think straight. All he knew is that he wanted to make this right.

Heart skipping a beat when she opened the door, he tried to ignore the surprised and almost scared expression on her face. She was clearly not expecting him.

“Hey.” he said meekly.

“Hey…” she mumbled, leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded.

There was an edge to the silence that stretched between them, and it seemed to fizz and crackle in the air. It made the hair stand on the back of his neck. She shifted her weight slightly, avoiding his gaze, and his mind was going a million miles per minute, trying to come up with the right thing to say.

Showing his hands into his pockets angrily, he heaved a loud sigh.

“Look, I’m sorry.”

It was the worst thing to say. It was the most horrible thing to say because it couldn’t even begin to cover it. He wasn’t just sorry. He felt remorseful, imbued with shame to the bone that tinted his cheeks pink and his heart in an inky shade of blue. 

When she said nothing, he continued. “I’m sorry for calling you out like that. I was a jerk.”

Finally, she reacted, albeit it was only a huff as she murmured. “Yeah. You kinda were.”

She still refused to look at him though, and it was driving him crazy - it was impossible to read her. It’s not like he could hope for a miracle in forgiveness, right? He was here to do his part and apologize, and if she wouldn’t take it, he’d had to respect that. He thought he was ready for that, but now the mere thought of her not forgiving him hurt more than he ever expected - like an uncomfortable itch on the inside of his soul.

The seconds in silence seemed to stretch into ages when she finally spoke up again, lifting her eyes up at him, warm brown darkened to almost black pools. 

“I was kind of a dick too, though, so I guess that makes us even.” she shrugged with a sheepish smile, hoping it would relieve a bit of a tension.

“No, listen, I mean it, okay? I shouldn’t have...” he paused, anxiously combing through his hair with his hand as he huffed out more quietly. “...I shouldn’t have attacked you like that.”

And then, barely a whisper as he added. “I’m sorry.”

Distressed, he looked around the corridor, clearly not comfortable with the dormitory levels where anybody could walk them by.

“I mean it too, you know.” 

He turned back to her, trying to figure out if she was playing on him - it had to be a trick. How could she apologize to him after what he’s done, what he put her through? But in her eyes, he saw nothing but sincerity, and a genuine smile slowly spreading on her face.

“I was really upset with yesterday’s call, and when you, you know?” she tilted her head to the side. “When you started asking me about it, I guess I just snapped. It had nothing to do with you. I’m sorry too. I know it’s not something we can just magically forget but…” 

Storm-grey eyes slowly brightened to blue under the dim lights of the hallway as he nodded in understanding, tasting the words on the tip of his tongue a bit before letting them tumble out.

“That mean I’m forgiven?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. If I’m forgiven too?” 

Bucky sighed. His lungs felt like being filled with fresh air for the first time in forever as invisible shackles crumbled from his soul.

“Forgiven.” he said. “But I’d still like to make it up to you. If you’ll accept it?”

“It’s fine, Bucky, you don’t need to - “

“No, no, just.” he stumbled over his words in apology. “Just let me finish, please? Nothing big, just a coffee maybe?”

Cocking an eyebrow, she gave him a look of amusement. “No offence, Sergeant, but as far as I’m concerned, the coffee is free? That, or I owe Stark my lunch money.” she jested with mock panic in her voice.

“Yeah, well. I was thinking about going outside, actually. I noticed you haven’t really done any sightseeing, and there’s this small coffee shop, not far from here, and… You don’t have to, of course.” he finished.

She seemed a bit taken aback at first, but to his surprise, she quietly agreed.

“Sure, I’d like that.” she said.

And boy, did it feel like fireworks in his heart.

Hands back in his pockets, he slowly walked backwards, but he couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face. “That’s great! Tomorrow morning maybe?”

She hummed, nodding. “Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll pick you up in the garage.” he kept backing away, unable to take his eyes off of her.

“Bucky…” she started.

“I’ll drive you there, and…”

“ _ Bucky! _ ”

A yelp and a messy tumble, papers and manilla folders scattering around as Bucky fell over an Agent who’s only sin was being busy on their phone while making their way to their rooms - a mistake they’ll never make again. 

Pressing a hand to her mouth, 17 watched as Bucky babbled out apologies, scraping together the files littering the floor and shoving them into the poor guy’s arms who looked absolutely, positively mortified.

Red to the tip of his ears, Bucky shot one last wave at 17 before disappearing as soon as possible, the echo of her laughter accompanying him.

* * *

A few hours later, 17 was back at the same meeting room she stormed out of in the morning earlier. She adjusted her now clean clothes and the hem of the Led Zeppelin shirt that Tony brought her - apparently ‘ _ they’re not bad _ ’ meant ‘ _ avid fan _ ’ in his book. She swallowed the slight panic as she knocked and opening the door, an eerily familiar sight greeted her.

“Hey guys.” she greeted with a sheepish smile.

“Nice shirt.” Tony remarked innocently, standing right next to the door.

“Oh, you don’t say.” she quipped, scanning the room. She spotted Bucky, but before she could make her way to him, Tony gently stopped her.

“Nu-uh, up to the spotlight with you.” 

17 shot Bucky a slightly scared but apologetic look, and he just smiled reassuringly from his place at the window. Settling between Steve and Tony, she leaned back against the desk, wringing her hands together.

“Um, I think I should start, if that’s okay.”

Steve nodded, and she looked around the room once more.

“First of all, I’m really sorry.” she began. “For all that’s happened today. I know I should have communicated better.  _ And _ ,” she pressed the word “I should have stayed put during yesterday's mission.”

“True that.” Clint muttered, earning a smack from Natasha sitting next to him.

“...ow.“ he rubbed his shoulder with a pout. 

17 just chuckled. “It’s true, though. I’m sorry for the mess, but I guess at least now you know everything. And I hope I can make it up to you,” she looked at Bucky, holding his gaze “all of you.”

“We owe you an apology too, Agent.” Steve spoke up. “We should have watched back the surveillance before talking to you. And we never asked how satisfied your higher ups were with the results we were delivering - and that’s on us.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry, Munchkin.” Tony patted her back as the rest of the team spoke up, taking their turns to apologize.

“I-it’s fine.” she mumbled, blushing profusely. “It’s fine, really.”

“Now that that’s behind us, let’s start with a clean slate. No more secrets, is that agreed?” Steve suggested.

She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“And no more  _ Sirs _ . For good, this time.” he sent her a playful glare.

A rueful smile. Another nod.

“Before we continue though, there’s another matter we need to speak about: your files.” 

17 looked confused. “What about my files?”

“Did you know that they’re locked?”

She felt all eyes on her and she remembered what Bucky said in the morning. Mouth pressed to a fine line, she tried to come up with a possible explanation, but just shook her head. “Honestly? No. I’m… they promoted me to Level 4 before being assigned to my team, and as far as I know, everyone on, or above that level has free access to it.”

“Do you remember when was the last time they were still accessible? Or why they might have been locked?”

She shook her head again. “I have no access to the logs, and they mentioned nothing of this to me. I uh,” she paused, gaze trying to find purchase on some neutral ground, a window, a table, anything but their eyes as she confessed. “I know part of the Directory was not happy with my quick promotion, and some rumors made it back to me. But never heard anything about the files being denied access to.”

“And that boss of yours, the Wicked Witch of the West, mentioned nothing about it?” Tony questioned.

She looked over at him suspiciously. “No... Why? Is this important?”

“Sort of. “ he shrugged.

“It’s important,” Steve stressed “because when you arrived here, your files were under a Level 10 protection. Today, we asked Director Fury to allow us access to them, only to find out that now he’s locked out, too. So far, Hansen has not responded to his questions about why that is, though.”

“Whatever it is, it must be highly classified if they’re not even telling her.” Natasha interjected.

“Classified? But it’s just my files!” 17 exclaimed, slightly paling as her mind raced over the wildest of ideas on what Hansen could be up to.

“It’s okay, we’ll get to the bottom of it.” Clint said, stifling a yawn. He was clearly getting bored with the meeting.

Tony snorted. “One way or the other.”

“But first, snack!” Clint announced as he got up excitedly.

“First, training.” Nat corrected as she yanked him back by the hood of his sweater.

Clint slumped back into his chair, whining. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d be convinced you don’t love me.”

* * *

Bucky scooted over on the bench to make room for Steve and Clint. Not far away from them, Sam and 17 were doing a few minutes of quick warm up. She was stretching her arms above her head now, shirt riding up slightly, and Bucky found himself swallowing at the sight of her exposed skin.

“That should be enough,” Sam said, rolling his shoulders slightly “we’ll just do some basic hand-to-hand today. See how good you are.”

17 scoffed playfully. “I’ll have you know, I was the best in my group.”

“Big words, Peanut. Show me what you can do.” he winked as they both got into a stance. Bouncing slightly in excitement, 17 lifted and held out her left arm, as if ready for a fist bump.

Sam looked at her incredulously. “What are you doing?”

As if only noticing what she was doing, 17 quickly pulled her arm back to her sides. “Uh, sorry. It’s just a habit.” she blushed a little, trying to shrug it off. “Back with my group, we always did this before training. You just bump your fists slightly together, to let the other know that you’re ready and paying attention. Sorry for that.”

“No, no, I like it.” he lifted a fist in the air. “Come on, I wanna do it.”

Grinning widely, 17 quickly bumped her fist to his, then immediately threw a punch towards him that Sam could barely deflect.

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

She laughed. “I told you! That sign means you’re ready!”

Bucky watched them as they tested the waters, trading punches and a few kicks, but hissed when a few seconds later, Sam kicked her legs out as soon as he saw an opening. She fell back on the mattress with a loud thump and an indignant yelp.

“I thought you said you were ready.” Sam said cheekily, looking down at her.

She groaned. “Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“Not when you leave your left side open like that, you’re not.” He reached down, helping her to her feet. “But your punches are nice and clean, I gotta give you that.”

“Yeah, used to practice with my dad a lot.” she let out a breathy laugh, clearly reveling in a memory. “We always used to have these play fights when I was a kid. Said his daughter needs to learn how to punch properly.” her face fell slightly as she said that, so she just cleared her throat, trying to steer her thoughts back to the present. “Anyway, I went easy on you, gonna kick your ass now!” 

“As if!” Sam challenged, more than up for her game of jests.

17 might have fooled him with her forced smile, but Bucky saw a sadness clouding her eyes now, aware that there must be something more to that memory she just shared.

Something bitter and dark.


	9. Like a Heartbeat Skip, Like an Open Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not a date - right? But 17 and Bucky finally have some alone time, a chance to talk and to trade small secrets as an offering of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: mentions of therapy (nothing detailed or graphic)

Bucky leaned against the wall of the garage, tapping his foot impatiently. Even though 17 accepted his invitation to let him make amends, deep down, he still harboured a fear that she would turn him down at the last minute. 

And she would have every right to do so, he reminded himself. He was a true jerk, after all.

Shaking his head as if to get rid of these thoughts, he tried to focus on something positive instead. She agreed yesterday when he asked her. She showed up for the meeting, trained with them, and there was no sign of her turning tails now. And if she did, well, that wasn’t on him anymore - he offered to make things right and whether she took it was up to her.

Still, he couldn’t help but check his watch, fidgeting around like a goddamn teenager on his first date.

But this wasn’t supposed to be a date, right? Not that he would mind. In fact, he would really like that. 

No. No, no, that wouldn’t be right. Just concentrate on making up, and after that…

He jumped up slightly when he heard the elevator doors open, and all his worries seemed to evaporate when 17 stepped out. He had to look twice to make sure it was her -  she wore light blue jeans and another one of Tony’s shirts, the cover of an AC-DC album screaming on the front. No uniforms, no cargo pants or S.H.I.E.L.D. logos.

She looked so nice with her hair loose, backpack slung over her shoulder and positively beaming compared to yesterday. He must have stared too long because she blushed slightly.   
  
“Is there something wrong?” 17 asked bashfully.

“No, no” he said softly, clearing his throat. “Nothing wrong. That shirt looks nice on you.” he blurted, shrugging, and wasn’t it such a lame thing to say? When she looked like sunshine and mischief in a bottle, wearing her heart on her sleeves and the sweetest of smiles for makeup.   
  
She looked down, pretending to be busy with the hem of the shirt to hide her growing blush. “Thanks… I kinda like it too.” When her head snapped up, there was nothing but mischief in those beautiful brown eyes. “Don’t you dare tell that to Tony, though!”

He grinned, feeling his chest swell at the sight of her up to troublemaking again. “Secret’s safe with me. Ready to go?”   
  
Nodding excitedly, she looked around the garage “So which car are we taking?”   
  
Bucky’s grin widened. “I never said we’re going with a car.” he walked up to a black motorcycle, patting the seat. “Hop on.”   
  
17 cautiously looked it over. As far as she was concerned, it was a very  _ nice _ bike - all sleek forms and gleaming metal. But the thought of sitting on it caused a small lump to form in her throat.   
  
Cocking an eyebrow, Bucky looked back at her as he put his leather jacket on. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been on one before.” there was amusement in his voice, though 17 still felt nervous about this. 

She shrugged sheepishly and Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t believe you’d let Tony do a barrel roll with the jet but are afraid of my poor, innocent little bike.”

“That’s because the jet is actually safe!” 

With a gasp, Bucky turned towards his motorbike, gently caressing the seat. “Sssh, she didn’t mean it baby,“ he whispered “don’t worry.”

“Can’t we take a car?” she whined.

Scoffing, Bucky shot her a frisky little glare. “And pass on the chance to take you for your first ride? No way! Now come ‘ere, Trouble, it’ll be fun.”

Motioning for her to come closer, he helped her put a helmet on, giving it a solid, metal-handed bonk on the top for good measure.

“Hey!” she swatted at him playfully, but Bucky just shrugged.

“Sorry, gotta’ check if it fits you well.” he winked, securing his own helmet before getting on the bike. He looked over his shoulder, waiting for her.

17 felt her face flush for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, thankful that it was now unseen behind a visor as she climbed behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Her blush might have been hidden, but Bucky sure felt the content sigh as she pressed herself against his back.

* * *

17 wasn’t sure how long they were on the road, but the view that greeted her was definitely worth the wait. Bucky led her down a set of small stairs to something that must have been just another storage basement a long time ago. 

Now? It was a small, snug little coffee shop, with knick knacks stuffed to the most unusual of places. The farthest wall was packed to the brim with bookshelves, mismatched candles sat on the tables and at the cash register, a teddy bear - with its own apron, of course - held a tip jar safely in its paws. 

The whole place gave off a homey, welcoming aura that left her staring with her jaw open. Bucky nudged her with his shoulders.

“You like it?” he asked, putting a hand over her back to guide her gently further inside.

Hey eyes shone with curiosity as she kept looking around. “I love it.” she whispered. “It looks so cozy!”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s one reason I fell in love with the place. It’s quiet, too.” Only a few of the tables were taken, mostly by students working from their laptops, or reading a book while getting comfortable with a mug of tea.

As soon as she noticed the shelf full of various mugs they sold, 17 rushed over to get a better look at them, gently turning a few with careful hands. There were mismatched sets of prettily painted ceramic pots, one with a dragon coiling around, another with cherry blossoms. A few mugs with various texts printed on, some others with cartoon figures. There was beauty in the disarray of it.

“So, what’ll you have?” Bucky asked. “Let me order for you while you pick a table.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, putting a cup back on the shelf. “Bucky, it’s very kind of you, but you really don’t have to.”

He tilted his head to the side, giving her a look that left no place for argument. 

She sighed, giving in. “ _ Fine _ . Just a latte, please? No fancy-schmancy stuff in it, just plain.” she gently pried his leather jacket from his hands and headed for a table at the far corner, right next to the bookshelves.

Bucky watched her settle down, her eyes scanning the various books and novels packed on the shelves. He smiled, finding it hard to pry his eyes off of her when he came up next in line.

A few minutes later, he joined her, plopping down in the opposite chair and when they brought their coffees to the table, he didn’t even put effort into pretending that the huge dollop of whipped cream on her latte was an “accident”.

“You’re an incorrigible little rebel, you know that?” she asked, wagging a spoon at him threateningly, eating off the whipped cream quickly before it melts.

He just shrugged. “Apparently we’re both bad at taking orders.”

There was an agonizing pause after, and Bucky let out a sigh, covering his face with his hands. “God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” he mumbled.

“It’s okay. It’s not like it didn’t happen.” she shrugged a little, stirring her coffee.

“Yeah, but I came here to apologize to you and-” 

“It’s fine, Bucky.” she cut in before he could continue. “I wasn’t angry to begin with. Not at you, at least.” she sent him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile. “How about we leave that behind, huh?” 

Slowly, he nodded. And with that, it felt like a barrier between the two of them lifted. Talking became simple. Calm. Easy. Like they’ve known each other for years and Bucky slipped into a conversation with her with an ease he just now realized was missing from his life for a while now.

When a more comfortable silence settled around them, 17 looked around the place one more time, with the same wonder in her eyes when they walked in.

“So?” she began, giving him a look.

  
Bucky cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile behind his cup. “So, what?”

“How did you find this place?” A careful curiosity, a small step over a threshold was all it was. “I mean, no offence, but it’s not exactly what I would imagine for you.”

Bucky put down his cup, leaning back in his chair smugly. “Alright, here’s the deal. I’ll trade a story for a story.” 

17 narrowed eyes at him. “And if you ask something I can’t answer?”

He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Then I get another question.”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over. “Alright. Deal.”

He smiled so wide the corners of his eyes crinkled in the most adorable way. “Deal. You first.” he nodded.

“So, this coffee shop?” she repeated the question, playing with a napkin in her hands. 

He huffed, apparently entertained at her curiosity. “When I joined the Avengers a while back, I wasn’t really… social. And that’s putting it lightly. I mostly hung around in my room, maybe talked a little to the others.” Brows furrowed, he paused to take a sip of his coffee. “Obviously, I was going to therapy, but it was still pretty hard to settle in.”

Paying close attention, 17 tried to watch for any sign of him being uncomfortable with this. Surely, it wasn’t an easy topic for him, because he fell silent for a bit.

“And what changed?” she asked.

“In one of my therapy sessions, the doc suggested I should try going out a bit more. Be among other people. But truth be told, I was afraid. For a lot of different reasons.” he gave her a meaningful look before continuing. “Steve even offered to accompany me, but I told him I wanted to do it alone. I know it sounds stupid, that a grown man was afraid to go out alone. I felt stupid at least and wanted to overcome it. Drove around the area when I stopped for a bit, and that’s when I found this place.”

“Aaand?” she probed playfully.

“What ‘and’?” he chuckled. “Aren’t you a little nosy?” He turned his cup around, fumbling with it. “When I got here, I was pretty sure they recognized me, yet still treated me just like any customer. It’s a small place, and they get little traffic, but I come here as often as I can.”

She rested her chin propped up in one hand. “That’s really nice.”

He hummed in agreement, before giving her a mischievous look, clearly excited. “Alright, your turn.”

Groaning, 17 dropped her head, mumbling. “I donwanna.”

“Oh no, you’re not gonna’ get away that easily.” he gently kicked her feet under the table. “Come on. You promised.”

“Ugh, fine.” she sat up straight and crossed her arms, her entire posture a playful challenge. “So what do you want to know?”

“How long have you been at S.H.I.E.L.D.? And what’s the deal with everyone wanting to get you out of your team?”

17 grumbled something about knowing he’ll ask that, but eventually gave in. “They hired me right after finishing school, something like, what? Eight months ago? Most of the time we did boring recons, ‘cause nobody really wants to do those, right?”

“Right.” Bucky nodded in understanding.

“Anyhow. I don’t have a family, and this kind of job doesn’t really allow for friends, so I put everything I had into this. The trainings, the missions - while others wanted to just get by, I always wanted to go the extra mile. It didn't take long for the officer training my group to notice that, so he pushed for a promotion. Sooner than he did for the others. Much sooner.” her face contorted in a frown as she continued. “And apparently, people didn’t like that.”

She tried to shrug it off, but at the same time, it was clear she wasn’t at peace with this. She leaned forward, elbows on the table as she began fumbling with the napkin again.

“They put me into a team, one directly overseen by Hansen.” She almost spat the name, huffing. “I don’t know what triggered it, but she hated me from the very first moment, and while I tried not to care about it, it was still off putting. Soon, rumours began to circle about how I must have made some connections, or offered certain… “ she paused to swallow “things in exchange for a promotion. None of those are true, let me assure you.” she looked up briefly, holding Bucky’s gaze as if she was making a great confession. “All I ever did was work hard.”

Bucky nodded slowly, jaw tightening ever so slightly. “I believe you. And I’m sorry they treated you like that.”

“Well, thankfully, not all of them were like that. There’s Agent 48, who’s always looking after me. He’s like a big brother, really.” she smiled, hoping to close this topic and eyeing him carefully before blurting out. “Okay. Can I have another question?”

“Shoot.”

She grinned. “I want to know about the Snoopy mug.”

Bucky gave her a look, scoffing. “Seriously? You get the chance to ask anything you want from the former Winter Soldier and you chose that?”

“Yup!” she said, popping the ‘ _ p _ ’. “Wanna know all about it!”

Bucky rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “It’s from here.” he vaguely gestured towards the shelves packed with mugs and cups. “It was around Halloween when I came back here for the second time. It took me a while to work up the courage to come out again and wanted something to remember that time by.” he tried to dismiss it as something unimportant.

“Do the others know?”

He shook his head. “No. They just probably think I’m some avid Snoopy-fan.” he chuckled, and she joined in with a bubbling laugh.

“I think you should tell them. Maybe Clint wouldn’t steal it anymore.”

Bucky groaned, shaking his head. “Trust me, he’d steal it even more often. It’s better that he doesn’t know.” he looked at her with a small smirk.

“Ugh, go ahead, I know what you want. Ask.” she winked at him.

He gave her a serious look. “You don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want to, okay? I’m just curious.”

“You’re making me suspicious, but go ahead.” she said.

“You mentioned you have no family, but yesterday you talked about your dad. How’s that?”

As soon as the question was out, 17 paled slightly, absentmindedly tearing small pieces off her napkin as she stared down at her hands. She swallowed hard, opening her mouth to talk before Bucky interrupted her.

“Hey, it’s okay. If it’s not something you can tell, then don’t.”

Sighing heavily, 17 examining at the array of little paper balls she made, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth before looking back up at him. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. It’s just something complicated. And I’d like to tell you. If there’s anybody I’d tell, it’s you… I’m just not sure I’m ready to talk about it yet.” she winced, shaking her head. “Does that even make sense?”

He propped his chin up in one hand, smiling over at her. “Makes perfect sense. Don’t worry about it. You’ll tell it when you’re ready, sweetheart.” 

There was a slight pause as they both looked at each other, wide eyed, and Bucky cursed himself internally for letting that slip out at the end. He really was losing his mind around this girl.

Feeling his face heat up at the awkward silence, opened his mouth to apologize but stopped as there was a chorus of dings as they both received a message on their phones. 17 quickly fished hers out of her pockets, her cheeks flushed as she checked the messages.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky huffed. “It’s just Steve making sure we’re not late for training.”

She smiled fondly. “It’s him alright. We really ought to get going soon.” she stood up, grabbing her jacket. “I’ll be right back, just need to wash my hands real quick.”

Bucky nodded. “Sure. I’ll wait.” he watched as she stopped briefly at the shelves again, then disappeared behind a door.

Before he could change his mind, Bucky quickly made his way to the cashier.

* * *

Drying her face, 17 could only hope the cold water would help to drain the blush from her face. She still wasn’t sure what possessed her when she agreed to this - whatever this was, really. When Bucky offered to take her out for a coffee, she said yes to it in a heartbeat but regretted it almost right after, afraid of awkward silences and half-hearted apologies. 

But Bucky? Bucky was  _ everything _ . Forget that he was handsome - or at least, push that thought away for a second - and she was left with a sweet man who carried on with his life despite all that he’s been through. He was gentle and caring with those he held close. The way he talked with Steve, or Sam. How he made an extra cup of coffee for Nat when she showed up one morning. And deep down, she knew that Clint would be long strangled if he wasn’t fond of him.

She really enjoyed herself today, butterflies filling her stomach whenever those bright blue eyes found hers over the coffee cups. The world seemed to shrink around them when he talked, his pink lips pursed in soft concentration that made her wonder if she could still taste the coffee over them if she…

Swiftly, she pushed those thoughts away, self consciously straightening her hair and praying for that wretched blush to finally evaporate off of her skin.

A quick glance at her watch told her they really needed to get going if they didn’t want to miss the training, so she wiped her face one more time, almost bumping into Bucky as she stepped out the door.

A black plastic bag dangled from his hand that definitely wasn’t there before. 

“Did you get something?” she asked.

Blushing profusely, Bucky tried to move the bag behind his back.

“Oh, yeah. It’s uh… Nat really likes the coffee they make here, so I bought some for home.” 

17 smiled, trying to calm her heart that fluttered at how sweet this man really was.

“That’s really nice of you. Want me to put it in my bag?” without waiting for an answer, she slung it off her back, unzipping it and holding it out towards him.

The color deepened on Bucky’s face, but she didn’t seem to notice. “S-sure.” he mumbled, quickly putting the bag inside and pulling the zipper back up tight.

* * *

Once back at the tower, they got into the elevator together, both of them quiet for a minute.

“So, how did you like your first motorbike ride?” Bucky asked, leaning against the wall as the levels sped by.

She pretended to give a thought about it, pursing her lips. “Hmm, it was pretty exciting, I’d say. Except when that maniac of a driver sped off at the speed of light at a green light” she said with a playful glare and Bucky bursted out laughing, throwing his head back.

“I wish I could have seen your face, cause I heard that squeal through the helmets, you know.” she swat at his chest but he playfully pushed her hands away every time she tried to hit him. “I thought you’d kill me, you tightened your arms around me like a snake!”

“‘Cause you scared me!” she squeaked, trying to throw in a punch towards him, but the doors opened on her level. “I bet you did it on purpose!” She said in a hurt voice as she skipped out, turning back to stick her tongue out. 

Bucky grinned. “You bet I did.”

Her jaws dropped open and the last thing Bucky heard before the doors closed was a muttered protest of ‘ _ cheater _ ’, but that was fine by him. 

_ Oh, it was all fine. _

* * *

17 couldn’t wait to be finally in her room. As soon as she closed the door, a grin broke out on her face, slinging her backpack on the bed. It landed with a slightly heavy thump, reminding her of the coffee that Bucky bought for Nat. Damn. She forgot to give it to him.

No matter, she thought. At least she’s got an excuse to talk to him again - once her heart calmed down a bit. She sat down on the edge of the bed, fondly thinking back about the morning, but her smile melted off her face as soon as she reached into her bag.

What she held in her hands definitely didn’t feel like coffee. It was something much more solid. Maybe Bucky somehow took someone else’s purchase by accident?

She groped around in the recesses of the plastic bag, producing something carefully wrapped in brown paper. Slowly, she peeled it back…

...and laughed.

She fell back on the bed, laughing, hugging that little package to her chest. When she finally caught her breath, she rolled on her sides, pulling the item back just enough to look at it again.

It was a black mug, with the words written in a bold font:

“ _ Resident Troublemaker _ ”

* * *

Bucky got out of the elevator with a spring in his steps, immediately heading for the kitchen. Humming to himself, he picked a can out of the fridge and then made his way to the living room where Sam sat on a couch, engrossed in a book.

“Hey Sammy.” he said cheerfully.

Sam muttered a ‘ _ hello _ ’ without looking up while Bucky practically fell on the couch with a happy sigh, popping open his can.

“I take it your date went well, then?” he asked.

And Bucky almost choking on his Coke was all the answer he needed.


	10. There Is a Fire and It's Burning in My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Killian is hiding, the team is busy working and training closely together - some might get more close than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, disgustingly bad flirting

Killian was apparently very skilled at hiding when he wanted to - two weeks later, Tony still couldn’t find him. He constantly monitored everything that they were able to gather about the man, watching his bank accounts, his contacts, and a few Agents were sent to Atlanta to see if he turned up again, but everything came up to a dead end.

For the rest of them, time was spent with constant training, but 17 didn’t mind. The first few days were extremely intensive, and the soreness got her complaining a bit, but as the days passed, she slowly eased into the Avengers-level workouts with Sam and Steve.

And occasionally, Bucky, who was sparring with her today.

“Alright, that wasn’t so bad.” he said now, helping her off the mattress. “You’ve been improving.”

“Yeah, well,” 17 quickly leaned down, pretending to dust off her knees to hide her slight blush. “I have some talented trainers, I guess.”

“You guess?” Steve asked from the side with a raised eyebrow, leaning against the gym walls.

A cheeky grin was the only answer she gave. It was just the three of them today, the air easy and casual between them.

“Enough fooling around, though.” Bucky said excitedly, cracking his knuckles and a mean grin on his face. “Time to take this seriously.“ 

Head snapping back towards him, 17 narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “...what do you mean?” 

“We’ve been holding back while practicing. And that’s fine.” he added reassuringly. “But I want you to come at me with all you’ve got now.” he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “One-time offer.”

“Wh-what? I… I can’t!”

“It’s fine, doll, just…” he paused, quickly clearing his throat. He hoped Steve didn’t notice _ that _ slipping out “just give it your best. You’ve been training with us for two weeks, we need to see how you’d do in an actual situation.”

Steve watched with an amused look, hands on his hips as she protested. “Don’t worry about him, 17. Besides,” he sent her a wink, “I’m here to save you if he tries to hurt you.”

“C’mon, just try it. Stance.” Bucky said sternly now.

17 sent one last pleading look of horror at Steve, who just laughed at her predicament before she reluctantly took her position in front of Bucky, fists raised.

“You ready?” he asked, grinning.

She made a show of whining. “Not really, no.”

“Go!” he said, and with that he already took a few quick steps back, putting distance between them. He knew she hated that. Growling, she tried to circle around him from the right, but he kept mirroring her movements.

“Stop dancing around and attack me.” Bucky taunted.

“I would if you stopped running away!”

Steve sighed, shaking his head. They’ve been over this a hundred times. “Don’t let him get to you, focus on finding a weakness in his stance.”

17 mumbled something inappropriate when Bucky finally moved in to punch her from the left.

She deflected it and immediately moved to kick him, pulling back just in time before he could get a hold of her leg. She followed up with a few punches when she saw an opening, but it quickly turned out to be a trap as Bucky grabbed her wrists and easily kicked her legs out, making her fall back on the ground again. He looked down at her with a smug smirk, before Agent 17 suddenly grabbed her shoulder and started screaming bloody murder.

“ARGH! Help! He hit me!  _ Agent down! _ ”

‘ _ Shit _ ’ was all that Bucky managed to get out before Steve tackled him to the ground with full force, rolling over him, bellowing with laughter. “Fear not Agent 17! Backup has arrived!”

“Get off, you fucking idiot!” Bucky tried to wrestle with him and failed miserably as laughter took the better of him. Steve quickly got the upper hand, pinning his wrists to the floor with all his might, straddling him.

17 got up, putting a foot over Bucky’s stomach victoriously “We have conquered the foul beast!” 

“I’ll give you something foul alright!” Bucky gritted as he weaseled his metal arm free, grabbing her ankle and bringing her down with a yank. She fell on top of them, laughing, scrambling up with squeals before Bucky could snatch her.

With a growl, Steve grabbed for Bucky’s hands again. “Run! I’ll hold him off!”

She ran for the changing rooms as her giggling filled the air. “I owe you one, Cap!”

Grunting, Bucky tried to break free again, kicking his legs. “Steve! That’s enough, you punk!” but he was having none of it. They wrestled for a few minutes more before he finally let go, rolling off of him and laying on the mattress next to him, laughing.

Tilting his head to the side, one look was enough for Bucky to burst into laughter too, wiping with his hands at his sweaty face, shaking his head in disbelief at their antics.

And if he felt a warmth in the depths of his stomach, if he felt like someone blew on the embers of his heart to bring back a flame to life, he kept quiet about it and prayed a shower would quench both his body and his soul.

* * *

Lunchtime was spent alone and in relative silence in the cafeteria. What used to be a lonely chore to get over with became something appreciated over the course of the past few days. With the continuous trainings, 17 learned to enjoy her breaks to recharge and rest a little.

But today, her reverie was interrupted by an automatic message from F.R.I.D.A.Y. - grumbling at first, 17 opened the text, almost dropping her fork when she saw that Tony called them all together for a meeting ASAP. Apparently, Killian was spotted in Atlanta again. 

Quickly abandoning her food, she took back her still half-filled tray to the kitchen window, grabbing a napkin to save only the strawberry glazed donut she picked for dessert. No way she’s gonna let  _ that _ go to waste.

Running to catch an elevator, she was thankfully alone as she stuffed the sweet treat into her face, licking the jam off of her fingers. As soon as the doors opened on the upper levels, she rushed for the conference room, entering right behind Steve and Agent 13. She was wondering what Sharon was doing joining them when she noticed the empty seat between Clint and Bucky. Whether that spot was left for her intentionally, she cared little, plopping down with a grin.

“Hey!” she greeted cheerfully.

“Hey, Trouble.” Bucky said with a smile, then frowned. “You, uh… you got a little…” he pointed at his mouth with one hand.

“Oops.” she mumbled, rubbing at her face, but on the wrong side.

“No, not there...”

She wiped at her chin now, completely missing it. Bucky huffed.

“Seriously, how old are you again?” Reaching out with one hand, he gently cupped her face, brushing off a few crumbs from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “There.”

Feeling her cheeks flush, she whispered a thank you, praying that nobody paid attention to them, but the grin on Natasha’s face across from her was proof that such hopes were futile. Bucky didn’t seem to mind, just smiled smugly before turning away, just as Tony was about to begin. He looked over a few of his notes, mumbling to himself.

“Right, that’s done, and everyone’s here, great... Let’s make this quick, everybody!” he promptly started while the screen behind him flicked alive with pictures showing Quinn as he got into a black car, the unmistakable parking lot of the airport behind him. ”Good news is, our buddy decided to finally show his face again. While we’re still trying to figure out where he was cooped up, you guys are gonna get busy.”

“We can’t make a mistake like last time,” Steve added, “so Fury wants to make sure we gather enough intel before moving in for capture.”

“Right.” Scratching his beard, Tony looked over at Sharon. “Agent 13, you and 17 will follow Killian for 12 hours, collecting as much evidence as possible as we agreed…”

Clint quickly pressed a hand to 17’s mouth just as she was about to let out a squeak of protest.

“...and Legolas will be your backup, keeping an eye on you two from a distance. The rest of the team will stay put for this one.”

“We’re waiting for one last report from Atlanta to confirm Quinn is not leaving again.” Steve took over, reaching across to pass them a few files. “If everything works out in our favour, you’ll fly out tomorrow afternoon and begin the mission next morning at 0600 hours. Details in the folders. Questions?” 

“Nope, we’re all good!” Clint chirped, hand still pressed securely over 17’s mouth, who shot him a glare.

“Great! That’s all for now” Tony finished, but as soon as the others got up, he smacked a hand on his forehead. “Oh, one last thing before you all go! Since you’ve been working and training hard these past few weeks, we decided to organize a little pizza night - drinks on me, of course.”

Clint raised his hands to the air, cheering and finally letting go of poor 17.

She wiped at her mouth, getting up to leave. “Well, you guys have fun. I’ll be catching up on my book then.”

Everybody turned to her surprised, Clint looking her over as if she just announced the world was banana shaped.

“What are you talking about? You’re invited too!”

She blinked, confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Steve said, smirking. “We’d be pretty poor hosts if we left you out of a party.”

"Dork.” Clint huffed, ruffling her hair and making a quick escape before she could retaliate.

“B-but…!”

She felt Natasha pat her back as she passed by. “Wear something comfy.”

“Hope you like pepperoni.” Tony said with a poke to her shoulder.

She looked down at Bucky, mortified, but he just shrugged, holding up his hands. “Don’t look at me!”

Sam showed up next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a hug with a laugh. “Don’t look so surprised! You’re part of the team, Tater Tot. Now…” he gently pushed her out of the meeting room, ignoring her groans at yet another nickname she received from them. “…do you  _ actually _ like pepperoni?”

* * *

Nervous. That’s what she was. Petrified like on her first day arriving here.

That was a month ago now, and while her relationship with the Avengers might not have started on the best of terms, it certainly improved a lot with the past two weeks. There was trust now, she could tell, even if it was hard earned over the fact that Hansen denied that she had anything to do with her files being locked and still had done nothing about allowing access into them.

Well, there was no use worrying over that right now. She had a night to relax - she should use this to her advantage and even if her assignment was not permanent, it was nice to feel included. Checking herself in the mirror once more, she pulled down the hem of her olive green sweater a bit when there was a knock on the door. It was most likely Natasha; she promised to pick her up and take her to their private floor since 17 had no access to that level.

“Hey!” when she opened up the door, Natasha gave her a once over, and she couldn’t help but blush under her gaze. “I-I’m sorry, you said to dress comfortably, but I can change.”

“No, no, keep it.” she looked her over once more, smiling. “I like it. Nice to see a little color on you. Come on, let’s not keep the others waiting.” 

Before she could blurt out a thank you, Nat turned around and headed straight for the elevators, 17 following quickly behind. 

As soon as they arrived, everyone greeted them in a chorus; they were all busy carrying plates and piles of pizza boxes and 17 rushed in to help. She tried to keep from staring at the almost luxurious living room they had. Not that the common levels were stingy with providing everyone with their basic needs. The cafeteria had great food, there were free coffee machines throughout the building; the gym was large enough to train a small army, and they all had very comfortable rooms - but this was something else entirely.

Tony couldn’t help but grin proudly at her gawking. “I take it you like it, huh?”

“Well, it’s a really nice place you guys have here, I have to give you that. Love the view.” she looked out the large floor to ceiling windows at the ever bustling city down below.

“And you’ve got taste, that’s my favorite too.”

“Don’t boost his ego, we’re already having trouble breathing around him.” Nat commented, settling down on a couch next to Sam.

“Don’t listen to the blasphemers. Just have fun.” he gently pushed her forward. “There’s the bar, there’s beer in the fridge - help yourself to whatever you want, kiddo.” 

“When you say  _ beer _ , do you mean the slosh they sell over here, or real beer?” she reached for an enticing bottle of whiskey, pouring herself a glassful while she sent a cheeky grin at Tony.

The billionaire grimaced. “Oh, har, har, make a joke about American beer like that’s never been done before.”

“Why, what’s wrong with our beer?” Clint hugged his bottle protectively. “I thought it’s fine.”

17 snorted, sitting down next to him. “Not with  _ that _ alcohol content, it’s not! Back in Germany, they would sell this as sparkling water. And I need something stronger than that.” she said, pointing at the back of the label.

“Let’s just be thankful that you’re old enough to drink, Pipsqueak.” Tony pinched her cheek, causing 17 yelp and push at his hands, obviously satisfying him with her reaction. She opened her mouth to a retort when Bucky shoved a plateful of pizza in her hands.

“Eat up while you can, Trouble. Clint doesn’t know the term ‘leftover pizza’.”

* * *

A few hours later, 17 found herself sitting in the same spot on the couch, but she was heavier with a few slices of pizza and a lot, lot more whiskey. She really didn’t mean to, but by the time she realized she had too much, it was already too late. And what was another glass anyhow?

Although the warm buzz throughout her body made her content and more relaxed than she could remember, it also made her hyper-aware of a warm thigh pressing against hers. She couldn’t recall when Bucky got here - at the beginning of the evening, he was definitely sitting opposite of her with Sam, and maybe… maybe Natasha. She tried to remember, but it just gave her a headache, a painful reminder that it was time for a glass of water now if she wanted to make it through the night.

But that meant getting up, and why would she do that when she could stay here next to Bucky; his metal arm slung over the back of the couch, a glass in his other hand as he animatedly talked with Steve, trying to recall a mischief they got into as kids. Why would she leave when she could feel the warmth radiating off his perfect body here? 

_ Oh god _ , she really had too much.

She leaned her head back, welcoming the cool of his metal arm pressing against the nape of her neck with a content sigh. Bucky stopped his story, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“You holdin’ up there, Trouble?” he had the audacity to raise the glass to his deliciously soft lips to take another sip, looking her over.

“I’m good,  _ I’m good _ .” 

_ Just need to get away before I get more nasty thoughts about that mouth _ , she mused.

Standing up slowly, she stretched lazily, noticing with a surprise that Natasha, Sharon, and Sam were gone. “Where are the others?” she asked, looking around with a confused frown.

“Gone to bed, as you should have been.” Tony quipped, emptying his own glass.

“I’m pretty sure she dozed off a bit there.” Bucky sent her an all too mischievous wink.

“You  _ wish _ .” 17 groaned as she headed for the bar. “I’m more used to nights like these than you old timers.” she shouted over her back.

“Ouch.” Clint rubbed over his heart. “That hurt, you know!”

“Sorry, Clint! I still like you though.” she rummaged through the fridge until she found an unopened bottle, the cold water tasting heavenly and shocking her awake. She could already feel her mind clearing slightly. The boys back in the living room carried on with their story - Tony laughed especially loudly at the punchline - and for a few seconds, she was content with just standing and watching them.

It was nice to feel included, even if only for tonight. She’ll definitely miss this when she heads back for home, but that wasn’t something she wanted to think about now. Not when all her feelings were hazy and blurred by the alcohol. No, she just wanted to enjoy her time here, as long as she could. She walked back to them, sitting on the couch with the carefully measured distance of an inch from Bucky’s distracting thighs.

They fell silent for a few seconds, Steve breaking it with a question as he leaned back in his seat to get more comfortable. “Hung out often with your team outside the office?” 

17 smiled ruefully. “Sure. We had this pub we went to a few times. Grabbed some, you know, _ real beer _ ?” a playful look at Tony who just rolled his eyes. “It’s a really nice place with a few pool tables. Really miss playing.”

“Oh, we’ve got one of those.” the billionaire added casually, pointing down one of the many corridors.

“Yeah, but I can’t even remember when we last played though.” Clint mused out loud before an idea hit him. “Say Squirt, up for a match?”

“Sure!” she agreed almost instantly, and although she feared the wretched whiskey was still at fault for that, going to bed in her current state would have ended up in a terrible morning anyhow. At least the worst of this will die down by the time they finish. “Is that okay, Tony?” she looked at him asking.

“Knock yourselves out.” he stifled a yawn, getting up from the couch. “I’m gonna head down to the lab for some more work. Oh, and don’t bother cleaning, we’ll just…” he waved his hands dismissively. “Just leave it.”

“You two fossils coming?” she knocked her knee against Bucky’s.

Yup, that was definitely the wretched whiskey talking.

“Excuse me?” he looked at her in feigned shock. “Doll, me and Steve were playing pool before you were even  _ born _ \- we’d kick your ass anytime.”

A wicked, wicked smile across her face. “Big words. Can you back it up?” 

Bucky looked over at Steve “What do you say, Stevie?”

“Don’t know. But the fifty bucks in my pocket says we’ll wipe the floor with them.”

* * *

“Ladies first.” Steve said as he handed her a cue.

“Aw, thank you.” 17 replied with a sweet smile. “Will still beat you, though.”

“Good luck with that.” he laughed, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

They moved to one of many rooms that Tony kept up for entertainment. It was nice and spacious, with a pool table in the middle covered in red felt. Clint just finished arranging the balls, lifting up the rack “Don’t know about you, partner, but I’m ready for those fifty bucks!”

“Hate to break it to you, but you’ll have to win first.” Bucky scoffed. There was no way he’d let these two win against them.

“I have faith in my team.” Clint shrugged, reaching to open another beer while 17 made a break. The white ball hit the others with a satisfying ‘ _ clack _ ’, sending them off in all directions. She watched as the burgundy ball of 7 rolled into a corner and disappeared. With a raised eyebrow and a coy smile, she turned to Bucky.

  
“Saw that, Sarge?”

He just scoffed again. “Beginner’s luck. Do it six more times and it might impress me.”

“Wow, you’re sure hard to please tonight.” she turned back to the table with a playful eye roll. Contemplating her next move, she walked around the table, eyes on a red ball.

“It’s not you, he’s always hard to please.” Clint grumbled.

17 hummed. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

Steve barked out a laugh, but Clint just rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha. Let’s hope your shots are better than your jokes.”

They definitely didn’t laugh when it turned out that they made a great team with Clint - the match was quite tight and Steve actually started to fear for those fifty bucks.

Leaning forward on the table, 17 grinned to herself. Most people underestimated her in pool and that was fine. Her game wasn’t perfect, but if Clint could keep up their streaks, they could win this easily. Squinting slightly, she pulled back the stick, focusing on the solid purple ball ahead when a very ticklish pinch to her sides made her jump up with a squeal, knocking and setting the cue ball rolling by accident.

“ _ BUCKY! _ ” she squeaked, covering her sides protectively.

The bastard wore a shit-eating grin. “‘S my name, doll.” 

“That’s cheating!”

“Woah, not cool, Barnes! Put that ball back where it was!” Clint called out.

Bucky just shrugged and walked to the other side of the table, still grinning from ear to ear. “All’s fair in love and war. Not my fault she’s ticklish.” he sent her a wink that caused her to blush and quickly made a shot, potting ball number 15. Eyes on the next one, he pulled back the cue when 17 not so subtly sneaked behind him and tried to tickle his sides, but to her dismay, he just smiled, unflinching. “Sorry, doll. Won’t work on me, but nice try.” 

Without looking up, he knocked the yellow striped ball a bit to the side so Steve might get an easier shot at it.

17 groaned in frustration “Steve!”

“Oh, no, you’re not getting me caught up in this.” he shook his head, grinning.

“But he cheated!” she whined.

“Did he now? Huh. Didn’t see anything, sorry.” he shared a conspiratory look with Bucky, smiling to himself.

“Ugh, you guys are impossible.” 

“Relax, we still got this.” Clint drawled casually, though he couldn’t pot a ball. “Your turn, Steve. Hope you mess up!”

“Your love moves me.” he said, getting up with a sigh.

17 chewed over her lips, thinking. No way she was going to let Barnes get away with this. While he and Clint were busy joking over something - opening yet another beer for themselves - Steve was distracted, thinking his next move over. And that’s when a plan formed in her mind. 

As casually as possible, she took off her sweater, carefully folding it on a chair and revealing a simple black tank top underneath. She walked directly opposite of Steve, who was still occupied with the arrangement in front of him.

17 leaned on the edge of the table, shoulders pressed slightly together. A quick glance down reassured her that  _ her _ arrangement looked perfect as she summoned her sweetest, most innocent voice. “So how do you and Bucky play so well, hmm?”

She watched as Steve smiled, eyes still focused ahead as he placed one hand on the table, the end of the cue on top. “I guess we just played a lot and got the hang of it.” he looked up briefly, and that was his mistake. With a hiccup and a slipping hand that almost sent the cue ball flying off the table when he saw what was in front of him, he dropped the stick, covering his eyes and turning crimson. “Oh god.”

“What the… Steve!!” Bucky groaned when he saw what happened. “What the fuck, man!”

17 burst out laughing while Steve tried to blindly find his way back to a chair.

“What happened to your motto, Barnes? All’s fair and all that?” she asked, shoulders wiggling teasingly.

“Please remind me never to play against you.” Clint said, extending a hand to high five her, which she gladly took.

Bucky just kept grumbling. “Jesus, Steve, they’re just boobs.”

“A very nice set if I do say so myself.” 17 giggled, carefully adjusting her top so it was less revealing now.

With an indignant snort, Bucky picked up a cue, hoping he can still save this game. There weren’t that many balls left on the table, and it was hard to get a clean shot.

It was apparent they were getting tired as they kept missing too. When it was Steve’s turn, 17 was ready to walk over again, a mischievous smile on her face. Bucky grabbed her at the last minute as she passed in front of him.

“Oh no, you don’t.” he locked her in a tight hug, arms snaking around her. “Gotta’ keep an eye on you, darlin’.”

She made a show of whining playfully, squirming around a bit, but she gave up with a huff, settling down and leaning into his embrace. 

“You’re no fun, Bucky.” 17 pouted.

“You’re one to talk.” She felt him rest his chin on the top of her head as he mumbled. “You’re nothing but trouble after all.”

She took a deep breath, but instead of a witty remark, she quietly revelled in the feeling of his muscled chest pressed against her back, thankful that she discarded the sweater earlier. His arms were tight around her waist, yet there was something gentle in the way he held her. Something at the back of her mind whispered that she shouldn’t be this bold, but the lingering buzz of the whiskey oh so helpfully drowned it out.

His hands brushing at her sides, a playful wiggle of his fingers sent her into giggles again - and wasn’t it the sweetest thing Bucky’s ever heard in his damn life. Steve was done with his round too bloody soon and reluctantly, he let her go. Sending him a mischievous look over her shoulder, she skipped away to the other side of the table in case he tried to distract her again, but Bucky stayed there, leaning against the wall and promptly ignoring the looks Steve and Clint sent him. He just couldn’t care.

Not when his very heart was on fire, and his blood felt like gasoline cursing through his veins. She made it so hard to concentrate. Damn, and she had nothing to be ashamed of in that top either; no wonder Steve almost fainted at the sight.  _ He _ felt like fainting right now, and he couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol anymore.

He already missed her body pressing against his and wanted nothing more than to hold her again.

_ Fuck it _ , if he got to hold her again like that, he’d probably never let go.

A loud ‘ _ click _ ’ as a ball missed its mark and Clint’s groaning jolted him out of his daydreams.

“Oh, no.” 17 mumbled, burying her face in her hands miserably.

Looking at the table, Bucky couldn’t help but grin - there were only four balls on the table now. The cue ball, the eight-ball in a far corner, the orange striped 13 and the cause of 17’s misery: a solid blue ball slowly rolling to the middle of the table. She just missed what was probably their last chance at scoring this.

Nudging his shoulder, Steve pointed towards the table with his head. “Go win it, Buck. Can’t wait to see their faces.”

“You know, Steve,” she commented with mock irritation. “I actually thought you were the nice one in the team.”

But the Captain just laughed. “Sorry, Agent. Not when my money’s on the line.”

Bucky looked over at them, victory already sweet on his tongue, and he couldn’t help himself. “You know,” he said as he slowly, painfully slowly walked to the table with a cue in hand, “it’s actually pretty sad, ‘cause you really played so well.”

The glare 17 sent him was supposed to look mean, but the way it made her nose scrunch up was downright adorable. Casually and with little effort, he potted the striped ball, eyes already on his last target. As he leaned forward to aim, he wasn’t even surprised to feel 17’s hands at his sides again, teasingly slipping under his shirt. It took all his might to keep his composure and not shiver in delight, but he really couldn’t drop his act now. Doing his best to appear unaffected, he spared her a smug smirk, pulling the cue back.

“I told you, darlin’, not gonna work on me.”

Leaning in close to him, 17’s lips almost touched his earlobe as she whispered, breath tickling his skin. “ _ That’s a real shame, Bucky. Would have  _ loved _ to explore your sensitive spots. _ ”

Steve leaned out of the way just in time as the eight-ball whizzed past his head, super soldier reflexes kicking in at the last second. Bucky was leaning on the table, arms almost shaking with the effort of trying not to collapse as his head hung low, but one had to be no genius to guess the color on his face.

“Did he just…” Clint paused for a second, staring at the small dent in the wall, then at Bucky as realization hit him. “We won!”

Squealing with joy, 17 ran towards him and Clint picked her up in a hug, spinning around as they cheered. While they celebrated, Bucky tried to regain his self-control, begging all higher powers to drain the flush from his cheeks. Steve came over to pat him on the back.

“Jesus,  _ Bucky _ , they’re just boobs.” he said in mocking imitation but grinning from ear to ear as he took out his wallet from his pocket.

* * *

Eyes screwed shut as she clutched her sweater, 17 leaned against the cool walls of the elevator. The buzz of the alcohol started to fade, giving space to fatigue and a mean headache. She felt weak and the idea of collapsing right then and there seemed to be really enticing.

“We’re almost there. Don’t fall asleep on me now.” 

Bucky’s voice pulled her awake only so he could push her deep into a hazy daydream. He sounded deliciously husky and slightly hoarse from the drinking and the late hour. And really, it wasn’t helping her right now.

But why was Bucky here again?

Oh,  _ right _ . 

After doing a quick cleanup and packing everything from the pool table, she stood up to leave and call it a night only to stagger slightly. She kept apologizing, telling them it wasn’t the alcohol when they got worried. She drank nothing but water for the last hour, but her body demanded sleep and something more nutritious than the long-forgotten pizza slices she had. Still, Bucky offered to accompany her to her room.

When she didn’t respond, he gently shook her shoulder. His touch was soft and warm against her skin and  _ god damn it _ , that really wasn’t helping.

“I’m fine, Bucky.” she said, peeking an eye open to reassure him she was still awake. She felt more and more light-headed... weren’t you supposed to be dizzy while you were still drunk? Whiskey was a wicked thing indeed, and she made a mental note of avoiding it in the future as she tripped out to her floor.

Bucky caught her before she could bump against the wall.

“As much fun as it is to watch you stumble around, please don’t do that. Would hate to see you smacking your head against another door frame.”

With a half-hearted laugh, she hooked her arms around his when he offered. “To be fair, that door frame materialised out of thin air.”

“Right. Completely sneaked up on ya’.”

_ Just like you _ , she thought with a laugh as she gently leaned against him.

They arrived up to her door all too soon for her liking, and she let go of him, carefully leaning her back against the door.

“Thanks for the help.” she said with an all too content smile that Bucky seemed to mirror instantly.

“It’s nothing.” he shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you arrive in one piece.”

She lifted her eyes to look at him better. His pupils slightly dilated and eyes a darkening shade of blue, the look he gave her was downright hungry and she couldn’t find it in herself to be bothered by it. Quite the opposite, it seemed to set her heart on fire and and her shoulders burned, her skin feeling branded by his touch earlier. She wanted to say something but words seemed to be a foreign thing, quietly dissolving on her tongue before she could speak them.

He was standing close. Too close, something warned her but she promptly ignored it.

His lips never looked more beautiful -  _ truly kissable _ \- she thought and she found herself leaning forward and could swear Bucky was too. She could feel his breath on her lips, when - 

Crashing down in a flurry of curses, they flinched and jumped away from each other, heads snapping to the source of the racket.

A few doors down, one of the new recruits stood with half a handful of files, the other half scattered at their feet. Karma sure was a bitch, Bucky thought as he recognized the poor kid whom he fell over a few weeks earlier. The boy must have realized who he interrupted, too, as he turned the color of a lobster, grabbing his things and scurrying into a room. He was lucky Bucky didn’t know his number or he’d be dead by dawn.

He turned back to 17, only to find that she had opened her door, slowly stepping back to her room with eyes cast down.

“I’m… ahm, I think I should go to sleep now.” she mumbled. “T-thank you for helping me get back here.”

Before Bucky could protest, she closed her door with a quiet click. He cursed under his breath, swearing an oath to find out that kids ID number now.

He looked down at his pants and cursed again, hoping he won’t meet anyone on his way back to his own room.


	11. Like a Fool I Thought All Will Be Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 17 finally meets Killian face-to-face, albeit differently than she expected. Does this mean the end of her journey, or is it just a fork in the long road still ahead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: mentions of murder, serious injury, injury described in some detail (nothing graphic)

Streets still dark outside, it was barely 5am as they got ready in their hotel room. Clint currently lay sprawled out on the bed, trying hard not to fall back asleep.

“Ugh, I’m so fed up with reckons.” 17 complained groggily, tightening the straps of her holster and checking her gun for one last time. They arrived late last night, stayed up even later going through the plans again. And let’s not even mention the hangover she had to deal with the better part of yesterday.

  
“Look on the bright side, at least you don’t have to wear fancy clothes this time.” Clint mumbled, words slurring just slightly.

“I swear, the next time you guys put a skirt on me, I will tear it off.” 

“ _ Mmm, I like the sound of that. _ ” Bucky almost purred into the comms.

Feeling her face burn hot, 17 tried to ignore his comment as Sharon laughed out loud. “Captain, please tell Sergeant Barnes not to distract Agent 17. She’s currently doing her best impression of a beetroot.”

“ _ SHARON. _ ” she squeaked, trying to take the comms away from her, almost stumbling over her untied shoelaces in the process.

“Keep your energies for the mission, okay?” Steve sighed. “And as for you.” There was a quiet smack, followed by an ‘ _ ow _ ’. Then a snicker.

“You guys still owe me an explanation for that dent in the wall by the way.” Tony chimed, voice just on the edge of scratchy before his coffee. “Either one of you comes forward with the story or I’ll watch back the surveillance and make it public.”

Bucky groaned and 17 snorted, thinking back about that night. She tried to focus on the good parts. The parts with  _ Bucky _ . She hasn't had a chance to talk to him privately since that night in the corridor. He was just about to kiss her when that Agent interrupted them and it made her snap out of her daydreams. Afraid that Bucky might think of her as frivolous or shallow, she panicked and did the first, and coincidentally, the worst thing that came to her mind and practically slammed the door on his face.

She winced at the memory of it as she tugged a zipper up on her jacket. She liked Bucky, hell, she liked him a  _ lot _ . But she had way too many drinks that night and was more bold than she normally would have been. It wouldn’t have been right. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. Containing her growing feelings for him was becoming harder with each day she had to spend near him.

And the worst? The worst was that she could have sworn this was mutual, and it blew her mind. And wasn’t this inherently cruel? They knew she had to leave as soon as they caught Killian - a day that grew steadily closer. It felt like tricking him, leading him into a heartbreak, so what was the point in playing pretend?

Then again, she reasoned, Bucky was an adult - they were both adults - and surely he knew what he would be signing up for. The more she racked her brain about it, the more she felt compelled to talk to him. As hard as that would be, Bucky deserved her honesty. And if she was wrong, and this wasn’t mutual, at least they would solve it.

“Hey, everything's okay?” Sharon asked as she finished dressing, completing her outfit with a black baseball cap. “You seem to be miles away.”

Quickly, 17 nodded, adjusting the hidden microphone at the collar of her jacket. “I’m okay, sorry. Just a little sleepy.”

Sharon eyed her suspiciously for a few seconds. “Alright. You ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Little did Sharon know she wasn’t talking about the mission.

* * *

Killian kept himself busy all day with a tight schedule. They followed him like a quiet shadow while he visited several banks and had a few short meetings with what would possibly have to be his clients. Their current residence was a coffee shop that thankfully had two different entrances. Sharon sneaked in from the sides, taking a seat at a table and monitoring the two bodyguards reserving a table at a far-off corner.

17 quickly stood in line - right behind Quinn and his friend. She tried to calm and even her breathing, angling herself so that the hidden microphone at her collar could hopefully record their conversation. Killian wasn’t stupid enough to talk openly about his business at a public space like this, but one could never know when he’d let something slip.

When the two men left with their drinks and headed towards their seats, 17 casually ordered a large black coffee to go and left Sharon alone, crossing the street and entering a large building on the other side. As soon as she spotted Clint, she quietly walked up to him, handing over the coffee.

“Oh thank  _ god _ , I love you.” he whispered as he clutched the cup in both hands, sipping from it happily. They were in the lobby of an apartment building directly opposite of the coffee shop, where Sharon still sat, munching on a slice of cake as she sneaked a few photos of Killian and his men.

“I kinda want a cake now, though.” 17 pouted. Following Killian around all day was getting tiresome, but they couldn’t afford to lose him out of sight. Not even for a proper lunch.

“Here.” Clint reached into his pocket, producing a full Hershey bar. 

Gasping, she took it, immediately tearing the wrapper open. “Where did you get that?”

“Tony has a secret stash of ‘em in the drawer, behind the spoons.”

He sounded more than displeased through the comms as soon as he heard that. “For heaven’s sake, Barton, I told you to leave my chocolate alone.” 

Clint gave a shrug and sent 17 a smug smile, making her giggle. “And I told you to hide it better.”

* * *

Hours later, the day still wasn’t over for them. Agent 17 sat on a bench on a quiet street, towards the edge of the Centre. Atlanta was less bustling than New York, and this stolen piece of calm was much needed. They’ve been observing Killian since 6am, and while originally they should have headed back to the hotel room after twelve hours, Fury ordered them to keep following him. 

The man was smart, and no matter how close they got, he kept eerily silent and private about his business. Sharon took some great photos - Tony confirmed they could even catch details on some documents he went over with one of his clients, which was more than they could hope for. Still, a little extra could never hurt.

Quinn was sitting in a black car with a stolen licence plate a way down the road, waiting for hopefully his last client for the day. It was almost 8pm now, the sun close to setting, and 17 was eating a cheap, soggy sandwich from a nearby gas station while Sharon and Clint were taking a break.

“Stop chewing so loudly.” Bucky growled absentmindedly. 

“Whoops.” she mumbled, quickly turning off the extra microphone. “Sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Hey, not my fault Tony put it there.” she pouted, fishing out a disgustingly watery slice of tomato from her sandwich and throwing it away.

“You’ll be thankful for that microphone once you actually record something useful with it.” Tony added with some snark.

Losing her appetite after seeing that the tomato slice was actually one of the best ingredients, she threw the rest of the food to the trash can with a grunt. Steve left a while ago, leaving Bucky and Tony in the comm room, which resulted in growling bickering and witty remarks. Over an UNO match. They were getting on her nerves.

The more this day dragged on, the more her thoughts kept getting distracted. She just wanted to get back to the Tower and talk to Bucky. Well, maybe shower first, she thought with a frown. Wash her hair. Tell him she just wants to talk about something and be done with it.

“You’ve been awful quiet today, Trouble. Not sick, are you?” Bucky asked teasingly.

She huffed. “I’m on a recon, Bucky. Can’t exactly do a Disney sing-along while doing that.”

“Why not? I’d love to hear you sing.” Tony said. “You could sing me a song about that dent in the -”

“For the last time Tony, it was a simple accident.” Bucky growled, interrupting him.

“Last time I checked, pool balls couldn’t fly, Barnes.”

17 was about to turn her comms off altogether when she noticed another black car parking slowly, resulting in Quinn and his men to stir.

“Ssshh. Shush it you dummies, they’re on the move.”

She watched as Killian and his escorts entered a closed down, half-finished parking garage across the street with an older man wearing a white suit. What was the deal with bad guys always wearing black  _ or _ white anyhow?

“Alright, easy does it now. Wait for Sharon to get back to you, go after them together. Maybe he’ll decide to grace us with a fine song or two.”

* * *

Not ten minutes later, Clint gave them the green to go in. Apparently, Quinn was on the third floor of the building and they had a clear way to sneak up on him.

“Just nice and quiet, girls.” he said casually now.

Sharon and 17 were on the second floor, slowly creeping towards the stairs. The garage was empty, save for a few haphazard stacks of boxes. It provided the perfect acoustics for even the most careful of their steps, echoing back every noise they made. 17 cursed under her breath as she almost stumbled over a coil of rope.

Cautiously, Sharon slid her gun out of its holster, holding it up as she slowly ascended the stairs. As soon as she reached the top, she quietly ducked behind a large stack of crates. Waiting a minute, 17 followed her, all her senses alert for the smallest signs of being discovered as she crouched next to Sharon.

Clint coordinated them as they crawled to hearing-distance, 17 reaching for the microphone at her collar with shaking hands. She pressed her back against the crates, trying to keep her breathing low.

“I’ve got to give it to you, Quinn, I’m impressed. When word got around of you coming here, I was… having doubts, to say the least.”

“I’ll be taking that as a compliment.” the Irishman smiled broadly. “Pray tell me what changed your mind? A few weeks ago you were reluctant to do business with me, and now you requested an urgent meeting that had me flying back here two days sooner than I intended to.”

After a few seconds of thoughtful pause, the other man answered him with some guilt in his voice. “I heard some rumours that I simply could not believe and had to have my men check up on it.”

“Oh? What rumors?” Quinn seemed to purr in satisfaction.

“My men overseas confirmed you really broke into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s systems at the European Headquarters and I’ve gotta’ say, that’s impressive.”

17 snapped her head to Sharon, eyes wide with shock, but didn’t dare utter a single word. Brows furrowed, she simply motioned her to stay quiet and keep listening. Eyes screwed shut, 17 prayed this was a nightmare she’ll soon wake up from. She heard nothing about a security breach. She was wondering if this had anything to do with her files being locked, but dismissed it immediately. She was a rookie agent with no background, why would anyone -

“Ah, well.” Quinn’s laugh brought her back to the present. “What can I say. I’m good at what I do. It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you too, I’m sure.”

“Can’t wait for it. But now, I must go. I will send over someone with the details.”

Peeking over the crates, 17 saw as the men shook hands. Quinn stayed at the side of the parking lot while his two bodyguards escorted the other men towards the stairs. She turned back when Sharon tapped her shoulder. She signed that Tony ordered them to stay put and wait until the coast is clear before they move out. Nodding, she risked one more look. Something was off.

“Wait, this isn’t right,” 17 whispered as quietly as she could. “I don’t see his…” 

She was cut off by the handle of a gun meeting the back of her neck, causing her to stagger forward. Sharon was about to spring up but froze mid-motion when the business end of a gun pressed to her face.

“I told you I heard something.” one of the men grumbled, giving them a kick. “Move it.”

Sharon took a deep breath, sharing a look with 17 as they scrambled up from the ground obediently, hands held high as they led them in front of Killian. The man watched them quietly, the slightest of smirks tugging at his lips and curiosity flashing in his blue eyes. 

“I was wondering when S.H.I.E.L.D. would send their hounds on me.” he said, more amused than anything. “Never expected them to send a little puppy like you, though… Agent 17, was it?” 

17 narrowed her eyes at him, anger slowly building - strangely enough, she wasn’t afraid. Not even with a cold gun pressed against her back. The adrenaline coursing in her was way too high and kept rising even now as she tried to think about where the bastard had learned her call ID and what he was playing at.

“Search them.” he ordered coldly. “And take away their pretty little earpieces. I don’t need an audience.”

A crude and rough search ended up with their guns and knives gracelessly thrown at the ground a safe distance away. His men handed their comms to Killian, who looked over them fondly, as if holding precious gems in his hands.

“See, here’s the funny thing.” He casually opened his palm, letting them fall to the ground and crushing them under his boots, the delicate parts scrunching against the concrete. “When I learned that S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to capture me, I hired a dear friend of mine to take a look at who’s after me. Your files were damaged a bit and I couldn’t see your name, but your parents… ah, your parents proved much more interesting than you.”

Face paling at the mention of her parents, 17 held her breath and pressed her lips tightly together but he just laughed at her struggles. Sharon gave her a questioning look, but she didn’t return it. Her gaze was fixed on Quinn, her brown eyes burning with a dark fire. 

“I take it you don’t know what your parents did for a living?” he looked at her with a smug grin, scratching at his beard absentmindedly. “No, of course not. They wouldn’t have told you, thinking it would protect you. See, your father’s name, now that got me really curious.  _ Karl Peter Farkas _ .”

He pronounced the name like the sweetest of secrets, savouring every exotic syllable as he slowly paced in front of them. “It didn’t add up with your nationality, because Karl is not a Hungarian name. Digging around a little, I found out he was from Germany - his real name was Karl Peter Wulf, and he left the country quite abruptly, only to meet a woman at the borders. A military officer. Your mother.”

* * *

“ _ See, here’s the funny thing. _ ”

There was a screech through the comms, then dead silence. The blood in Bucky’s veins ran cold, numbing his thoughts. If anything happened to 17, he would absolutely go feral, he was sure of it. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., call back Rogers immediately.” Tony barked out. “Clint, I need a position.”

“Heard it all. I’m on my way, coming from the west side - they moved them to the other side of the building, and I need a clearer shot.” They could hear him huffing with the effort of getting to them as soon as possible.

The door burst open, Steve marching up to the communications dashboard with a stern expression. “What happened?” he demanded coolly. 

“They found them just as they were about to leave. Took away their comms.” Tony answered, racking his brain over how they could get them out.

“Where’s Clint?”

“I’m in position. There’s Quinn, and 17 seems to be lying on the ground…”

“Is she injured?” Bucky interrupted, ignoring the scowl on the other's faces.

Clint paused. “I can’t tell. Sharon’s standing next to her. Guns pointed at the both of them.”

Chest heaving with heavy breaths, Bucky suddenly sat bolt upright. “The microphone! Turn it back on!”

“Oh, crap, you’re right.” Immediately, Tony reached for a button, freezing as he heard the first sentence coming through.

“ _...d---n’t worry. You’ll be meeting mommy and daddy soon enough. _ ”

“Permission to shoot, Clint.” Steve ordered without hesitation.

“And don’t you dare miss.” Bucky gritted.

“Do me a favor, Barnes,” Clint said calmly, nocking an arrow, pulling it up to his eyes “and don’t insult me.

* * *

“I’m pretty sure you confuse my mother with someone.” Agent 17 huffed, trying to appear unfazed as she stood her ground in front of Killian, but her voice was shaking. “She was an accountant.”

Quinn hummed. “Of course. Accountant, teacher, bank assistant, whatever she needed to be - even the post of a military guard at the borders was a cover, of course. She was a spy. A spy who fell in love with your father - a man who escaped a secret Hydra facility near Leipzig months before.”

“You don’t know  _ shit _ about my parents.” 17 barely managed to grit out. 

He shrugged, unaffected. “Apparently, it’s still more than you do.”

She didn’t even stand a chance. As soon as she moved forward, a hit on the back of her head took her to the floor. Hissing from the pain, body trembling and shaking with the effort of trying to straighten herself back up, she got a full-force kick in her sides, causing her to collapse on the ground and curl up with a groan, staying put for good.

Crouching down, Killian leaned close, his voice cold and measured. “I trust you won’t interrupt me again. Nor you.” he gave a warning look at Sharon before straightening back up.

“See, that stubbornness got your father out of Hydra’s clutches too, almost twenty-six years ago. I saw his files. They captured him, forced him to work on science projects and he tried to escape many times, but they alway dragged him back. They even broke his leg once. Ha!” he gave a short laugh like it was a tasteless joke. “Can you imagine? But he got away one night. Ran all the way to the Austrian-Hungarian border seeking asylum. He changed his surname and married the love of his life, confident that he was safe. But Hydra doesn’t like loose ends, oh no.” he shook his head, as if tutting a child.

Shaking, 17 tried to get up again, but a kick to her left knee reassured her that staying on the floor was her only option for now. Hugging her knee, she curled up even tighter. Sharon watched her with worried eyes, desperately wanting to help her, but the gun at her neck kept her in place. She hoped that Tony at least had the brains to turn the microphone back on and that they were listening.

“About 12 years ago, Hydra finally tracked down your father. They sold the incident to the public as a heroic story about a man who tried to stop an armed robbery, causing him and his wife to get shot in the process. Am I correct? What bullshit.” he grinned, perfect teeth showing and his eyes beaming with pride in causing her misery. “It was a planned murder,” he spat “and even the store clerk was a part of it. But the funniest thing is when I read in your files how this motivated you to ‘ _ pursue a career in protecting others _ ’.”

He laughed out loud; head falling back and the mean, bitter laugh echoing in the garage. 

“Oh, life sure has a strange sense of humour sometimes.” he shook his head almost fondly. “But don’t worry. You’ll be meeting mommy and daddy soon enough.” he motioned to his men nonchalantly as he turned around and started to walk away. “Kill them, and be sure to clean up.”

“With pleasure, boss.” one of the goons said, pointing his gun down at 17. He was about to pull the trigger when an arrow flew through the air and lodged itself in his arm, causing the man to drop his gun and scream hysterically. Without a second of hesitation, Sharon ducked, barely avoiding a bullet meant for her head. She kicked backwards, causing the thug to stagger.

Gunshot causing her to jerk up, 17 slowly came to her senses, body suddenly alert and ready for action again - see saw Sharon disarming the man by kicking the gun out of his hands, then aiming another kick at his head while the other one lay on the floor, still screaming and clutching their injured arm.

Gathering her remaining strength and throwing caution to the wind, 17 quickly scrambled forward, picking up her Glock from the ground and making a mad dash after Killian. It’s as if the world slowed around her, blood rushing in her ears and suffocating every other sound. She heard Sharon shouting after her, but it felt distant, as if she called for her from another dimension entirely. Ignoring the pain in her knee, she ran on as fast as her legs could take her, ready to pounce as she turned the corner.

A shot rang through the parking lot.

She barely registered the ringing in her ears over the sudden, sharp pain in her abdomen. Stumbling, she collapsed on the cold concrete, air knocked out of her lungs as the world enveloped her in a soft, dark embrace.


	12. These Regrets, These Question Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting injured, Agent 17 is removed from the case. Time is running short as she tries to find the right words for what she desperately wants to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: opening nightmare, followed by a slight panic attack (nothing detailed or graphic), serious injury, pain described in detail

_ Drowning. _

_ Clawing the belly of the ice as broken rays of the sun seeped and splintered through. Bubbles, precious packets of air escaping, dancing away in the fractured light. Limbs aching with a primeval pain, soaking the very bones. _

_ Lungs empty and cold. A chest filled with frozen crystal fragments. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to breathe  _ so much _. _

_ Why is nobody helping? Why is there no more air? _

_ She needs to breathe, don’t they know that? _

_ She needs to breathe in deep. _

_ Deeper. Deeper — _

  
  
  


Waking up with a sharp gasp, 17 jerked into a sitting position, only to fall back with a choked cry. Immediately, there’s someone at her side clutching her hands, but all this pain is making her dizzy, white sparks dancing in front of her eyes.

She groans and writhes as the ache spreads throughout her entire body; like tiny shards of broken glass injected into her very bloodstream. A warm hand on hers. A cold one on her forehead. And a faraway voice filtering through the remnants of the ice.

“It’s okay, doll, I’m here. You’re safe.” he coos. “Calm down, sweetheart.” he says and gently, the syllables softly melt the cold. Her hand trembles in his, but he doesn’t say anything. Rubs gentle circles on her wrist and whispers sweet promises of keeping her safe, standing guard until this panic disappears, dissolves under his words, his touch. Waits patiently until her erratic breathing calms. 

Slowly, she seems to settle, although she’s still wheezing slightly, struggling for air.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asks, blue eyes faded into worried grey.

“Like fuckin’ roadkill.” she croaks, lying flat on her back, eyes closed and face scrunched up in pain. She tried to swallow around the dryness in her throat, forcing another sentence out. “What happened?”

“You got shot.” he stated matter-of-factly. 

_ Right _ . That explains the pain.

Groaning, she dropped her head to the side, peeking an eye open to give Bucky an unamused look. “I thought the bulletproof vests were supposed to protect against that.”

“They do. That’s why you only got three cracked ribs instead of a hole in your chest.” 

She winced. So far she was lucky and had no serious injuries. But cracked ribs? Those sounded painful. Certainly felt like it. “Where are we again?” she risked carefully.

“You’re back at the Tower. We’re in the medbay.” he didn’t stop caressing her hands, and she was thankful for it, more than anything, as images flashed in her mind. She remembered getting caught, being pushed on the ground. Running like there was no tomorrow and turning a corner, only to pass out. It all felt hazy and foreign, like a dream that happened to another person entirely. Another Agent somewhere far away.

But his touch? A tender tether that tied her to the world now, coaxing her back on the ground. It all felt magical until a new thought emerged in the back of her head, clawing desperately for attention.

“What about Killian?”

Bucky stopped. “We’ll talk about that later, okay?”

“I’m not a child, you know.” 17 said, pulling her hand away with a sullen look.

Bucky sighed, looking her over. She looked truly messed up, and not just on the outside. And if what Quinn said about her parents was true, well. He can only imagine how that could feel, but he knew by now that she’s too stubborn to drop the topic until he gives an answer.

“Sharon and Clint rushed you to the jet, letting him go.” he blurted.

“Shit.” 17 mumbled. “Better have left me and went after him.”

“Hey, stop that, right now.” he growled. “You got injured. The bastard shot you, for fuck’s sake, and you’ve got a bruise the size of Texas to show for it.”

“I got a bruise?” She whimpered and started to whine again, only to be interrupted by the door opening. With two cups of coffee in his hands, Steve pushed the handle down with his elbow, letting the door open slowly. His face lit up when he saw her awake, but it got instantly clouded over by a frown.

“Are you alright? Shouldn’t you go back to sleep?”

She huffed. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah. Shoulda’ come in five minutes ago when she was wailing.” Bucky quipped, though he sent her a wink too, as an apology.

“I did not wail. I was…” she paused to think. “I was imitating an animal's mating call.”

“A pretty dead animal, if ya’ ask me.”

Steve handed a cup over to Bucky, for once happy about a little bickering. It meant 17 was doing fine - at least for the circumstances. He pulled a second chair over to the bed, sitting down and appearing really tired all of a sudden.

“You two look kinda shit too. Just saying.” she squirmed around a bit, trying to find a position where she didn’t feel like screaming with pain.

“Yeah, well,” Steve sipped from his still-hot coffee carefully, “we were really worried about you, you know. Had to debrief Sharon and Clint too when they got back. And this here” he nodded towards Bucky who shot him a glare “refused to leave until you wake up and I’d hate to see him pull an all-nighter alone.”

“Oh god,” she groaned. “What time is it?”

Bucky checked at his watch, yawning. “Just past 1am. Night’s still young.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before 17 ventured a question with a heavy, wheezing sigh.

“How much did Sharon say about what happened?”

Steve considered his answer carefully, looking at Bucky as if having a silent conversation with him. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows over his knees while looking her straight in the eye. “She gave a full report, if that’s what you’re curious about.”

Wincing, 17 tried to move again. “Steve, I s-swear, I knew nothing about -”

“We’ll talk about that later.” he cut in, his voice stern, yet there was a warmth to it. “The doctors said you need to avoid stress as much as possible for now.”

“Are you kidding me?” she snorted. “Do they know what I do for a living?” she coughed and then hissed as a sharp pain stung her sides again.

“Easy now, doll.” Bucky said gently.

“Do you need anything?” Steve asked her, and she almost laughed at how worried they sounded.

“Yeah. A new pair of ribs would be nice. Ones that don’t hurt like a bitch?”

Steve smiled ruefully at her. “Fresh out of those, I’m afraid.”

Throat still dry and with lips chapped and swollen, she asked for a little water.

“Let’s help you sit up, then.” he said as both of them moved to help, but she abruptly raised a hand.

“I’m fine.” she insisted. She hoped they wouldn't notice the way her arms trembled, joints screaming as she struggled to push herself up. She tried to take a deep breath to steady herself, only to find out she  _ couldn’t _ , because every time she inhaled it felt like swallowing needles into her lungs. Feet slipping and her left knee refusing to cooperate, she collapsed back on the bed with a defeated thump, tears welling in her eyes.

“Okay,” she wept quietly “I’m  _ not _ fine.”

Shushes and reassurances, and wasn’t it a strange thing - to have two super soldiers in here, wrapping her up so tender in their arms one forgot these men could crush bones. 17 circled her arms around Bucky’s neck, bracing herself and swallowing a whine as they carefully, gently hoisted her up and piled soft pillows behind her back. 

She wiped her face and accepted the glass offered by Bucky, drinking slowly. Afraid to break the silence that settled coldly, she tried to blink away her remaining tears, only to have another one roll down her face.

“I’m uh,” Steve abruptly cleared his throat, making a show of backing out of the room “gonna go find a doctor, let them know you’re awake.” He sent a glare of daggers at Bucky, who just looked at him confused, but he left before he could protest.

Bucky shifted on the chair awkwardly, not sure what to say. He took the empty cup away from 17 and placed it on the bedside table. And that’s when he heard it, barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” she mumbled.

“What for, darlin’?” he asked, brows furrowing in genuine confusion.

“You were right. I am nothing but trouble.” she said quietly, new tears welling up in her eyes. 

Bucky immediately scooted closer to her “Shhh, don’t say that now. It's not true.” he placed a hand on her face, thumb wiping the tears away. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never should’ve said that."

“No, it’s true.” she winced, trying to even her breathing that picked up again, get a hold of the pain and the panic that tried to overtake her. “I-it’s true, I messed everything up and —” her voice cracked and a hiccupping sob cut off the rest of her sentence, her whole body flaring up in pain again. 

“Hey, hey, listen to me.” he placed both of his hands on her face now, holding her gently. “Doll, the only trouble I know is seeing you cry.” he whispered.

She swallowed the next sob as she leaned into his touch, the faintest of smiles blooming on her face.

“Yeah?” she sniffed.

Bucky nodded, thumbs tenderly caressing her face and brushing off an errant teardrop. “It’s true. You’re no trouble.” he cooed, and paused, pretending to think it all over before adding, “Well, except when you stole my mug, or when you got tangled in the belts on the quinjet...”

“Oh,  _ god _ , no.” was all she could mumble before a small laugh broke out of her, followed by hissing and a hand flying to hold her side. “Ow, ow, Bucky stop.”   
  
“And when you hit your head against the doorframe? Huh? Remember that, Trouble?”   
  
She squirmed, trying to push his hands off of her face weakly, but she grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, come -  _ OW _ \- on! Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better?!” she asked accusingly. 

“That’s what I’m doing, doll.” he grinned.   
  
“No, you’re not!” she groaned again, slapping halfheartedly at his shoulder. “This is all your fault. Just so we’re clear.”

Bucky pressed his forehead against hers. “‘M sorry. I’ll make it up to you when you’re better, okay?”

She sighed, reveling in his touch and slowly calming down. The creak of the door sent Bucky sitting up abruptly and 17 already missed having him closer. A young doctor walked in, leaving Steve out in the corridor.

“Sergeant Barnes, I sincerely hope you haven’t been stressing my patient.” she said sharply, looking them both over.

“Wouldn’t cross my mind, ma’am.” he said, standing up and immediately, 17 reached for his hand, trying to pull him back.

“W-where are you going?”

Bucky stroked her hand. “We’ll be just outside, okay? You have a talk with the doctor now. She’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

She nodded and, reluctantly, let go of his hand.

“Alright,” the doctor said when both super soldiers left “let’s see those x-rays, shall we?”

* * *

Waking up was slow, but a little less painful than before. 17 kept her eyes closed for a few minutes, trying to recall what happened last night. She remembered Bucky coming back to the room, but it was a little fuzzy after that. They must have given her something along with the painkillers to make sure she fell asleep quickly. Frowning slightly at that thought, she opened her eyes, breath hitching in her throat at the sight welcoming her.

Bucky had the chair pulled up close to her, half sitting, half slumped over the bed, peacefully sleeping. He was holding her hand in his, snoring slightly and blissfully unaware of her stirring. Carefully, 17 slipped her hand free, and before she could stop herself, she reached out to gently caress his face, feeling his light stubble scratch against her fingertips. Bucky nuzzled against the sheets with a happy sigh, slowly opening his eyes, ice-blue gaze immediately searching for the warmth of hers.

“Good morning.” 17 whispered, shyly pulling her hand back.

“Morning, doll.” he mumbled, and with a content hum he slowly sat up, stretching his muscles like a cat after a well-earned nap. Oh, that was a sight for sore eyes.

For a split second though, worry crossed his face. “Feeling any better?”

“A little, I guess.” she said uncertainly. “It still feels strange though.” She made a face, trying to take a deep breath in and out, and it was easier - but with every lungful she felt an itchy pain at her sides.

“Don’t force it, alright? It’s gonna take time to heal.”

“It’s not like I could force anything, even if I wanted to.” she pouted. Bucky wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips and make the sadness go away. Instead, he reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out, alright?”

The door opened suddenly and Bucky pulled away, awkwardly squinting at the figure who just entered without so much as a knock. “Good morning, lovebirds. Sorry to interrupt.” Nat said, dropping a pile of folded clothes at the end of the bed, looking over at 17. “How are you, feel like getting up yet?”

With wide eyes, she stared at her. “I can?”

Nat nodded. “The doctors want one last check-up and then you’re good to go. Besides, we just got word your boss wants a talk with you. The meeting is in two hours.” She gave her a sympathetic look. “We tried to postpone it more, but she was relentless.”

“Ugh, I take it all back.” 17 pulled the covers over her head, whining like a child in a muffled voice. “Just tell her I died. She’ll be happy to hear and I can stay in bed forever.”

Rolling her eyes, Nat yanked back the blankets, causing her to squeal in surprise. Before 17 could protest, she pointed a finger at her. “Shower. Now. And you,” she turned to Bucky who straightened in his chair abruptly “go get Steve, he wants to talk to you.”

“About what?” he asked suspiciously. 

“I don’t know. Boy stuff.” she shrugged. “Now go. Shoo.” 

Bucky got up, turning back to 17 one last time. “How about I get you some breakfast, huh? Pancakes sound good?”

Stomach grumbling at the mention of food, 17 only now realised she hasn’t had anything to eat since that soggy sandwich. Pancakes sounded  _ fantastic _ right about now. 

“Just be sure to make some for me too, Romeo.” Nat said, playfully pushing Bucky out of the room.

* * *

The hot shower definitely helped her tense muscles, and the simple act of washing her hair made 17 feel like an entirely new person. Body still a bit sore, Natasha helped her get dressed and accompanied her to the kitchen - obviously counting on those pancakes. As soon as they stepped out of the elevator, the smells were enough to cause 17’s stomach to groan loudly and her mouth to water.

Two plates stacked high with pancakes waited for them at the table and Bucky was still at the stove making more. He looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk on his lips.

“What took you girls so long? I thought I’ll have to eat them all myself.”

“Oh, you wish. Good job, though, we’ll keep you around for a little longer.” Nat said and swatted Bucky’s ass playfully when she passed behind him.

“Oi, hands off the cook Tasha, or you’re not getting seconds.” Bucky warned, rolling his eyes, then turned back when he noticed 17 walked up next to him. “What’s up, Trouble?”

She pursed her lips as if deep in thought, checking on Nat quickly before blurting. “I just wanted to thank you.”

Bucky shrugged. “‘S no problem, doll. Pancakes are done pretty quickly.” he had a hunch it’s not what she meant, but it was too much fun to see the blush blooming across her cheeks.

“N-no, not about… I mean, thank you for the pancakes, too, just...” 17 glanced at Natasha who pretended to be completely caught up in eating and browsing her phone, but the glint in her green eyes told her otherwise.

“Just what?” Bucky teased, busying himself with turning a few pancakes.

Color deepening on her face, 17 swallowed hard before looking back at Bucky. ‘ _ Fuck this _ ’ she thought. “Just thank you.” she quickly pressed a kiss to Bucky’s stubbly cheek, catching him off guard. He stood there dumbfounded, frozen in mid pancake-flip and face heating up slowly. 

“Y-yeah you’re welcome.” he almost squeaked, so he cleared his throat, hoping to get his voice back. “You’re welcome. You go and eat up now, yeah?”

Nat lifted a forkful of pancakes to her mouth, not even looking up from her texts. “You’re burning it.”

“Shit!” Bucky reached into the pan with his metal hand, letting loose a string of curses.

“ _ I have detected smoke in the kitchen. Do you need assistance, Sergeant Barnes? _ ”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” he growled.

* * *

With a content sigh, 17 pushed her empty plate away.

“You might wanna kiss the cook to let him know you liked it.” Nat said with an all-knowing smirk.

Bucky snorted behind her as he cleaned up on the counter, but 17 just wrinkled her nose in mock annoyance.

“Nat, I’m saying this because I love you, but you’re not funny.” she huffed.

“Whatever you say.” she said in a sing-song voice, gaze shifting over her shoulders.

“What?” 17 asked, confused, but before she could turn around, someone wrapped their arms around her shoulders from behind, squishing their cheeks against her’s.

“Don’t scare us like that again, you hear me?” Clint said, hugging just a little tighter.

Putting her hands over his arms, 17 fought the tremble of her bottom lip, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Clint. Thank you for bringing me back in one piece, though. I owe one to you and Sharon.”

“Don’t mention it, kiddo.” he pulled away, ruffling her hair. “Oh, by the way, they sent Sharon back to Atlanta, but she kept asking about you. Was very relieved when you woke up.” He targeted Nat’s plate and snitched a half-eaten pancake before she could stab his hand with a fork.

“Oh.” 17 deflated a little. “I was hoping I could talk to her.”

“You can do that when she gets back in a few days. You just rest a lot until that.” he winked at her, stealing another pancake and heading for the coffee machine.

“Yeah, well, first I need to talk to the boss.” she said glumly.

“We should get going too.” Bucky said, getting up from his seat. “Come on. I’ll go in with you.”

17 looked at him, making a show of appearing miserable. “Can’t we just stay here and eat more pancakes? We’ll just say we forget about it because of the time zones and - “

“Sorry, Trouble. No can do.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you all.” she said, getting up with the reluctance of a rebelling teenager and theatrically shuffling after Bucky.

“Have fun.” Nat waved at them as they left the kitchen.

“Ever considered a career in acting?” Bucky teased playfully, hoping to lift her mood, but she just laughed gruffly.

“No, but I might as well after this.”

“Don’t say that, doll. It’s gonna be alright. I’ll go in with you and won’t let them mess with you, I promise.” he reassured her as they turned at the end of the corridor, finding Fury standing in front of the briefing room, unfazed and expressionless as ever. 17 wondered if his ancestors were actually gargoyles. They had to be, at least on his father’s side.

“Sergeant Barnes, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked calmly.

“Sir,” Bucky stopped right in front of him, “Captain Rogers and I had agreed that someone should accompany Agent 17 for the meeting to provide a full briefing on last night's events.”

Fury seemed to muse over this for a few seconds. “That is actually a great idea, however, you will stay here and wait while I’ll be doing that personally.” He gave 17 a hard look. “I’m sure you won’t mind me doing the talking, Agent. It’s about time me and your boss had a heart-to-heart.”

* * *

More than an hour passed and Bucky could barely keep still. He was on his third coffee, restlessly tapping with his feet while leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Caffeine-poisoning won’t help her, you know that, right?” Sam asked, giving him a worried look.

Gruffly, Bucky put down his mug, pushing it away with the rest of his coffee sitting cold in it. 

“I know.” he sighed. “I’m just worried for her, that’s all.”

“She’ll be fine. Fury won’t let them mess with her.” he patted his shoulders and Bucky just nodded, hoping Sam was right. They both turned to the door as Steve walked in, looking at them with a sad expression.

“She’s leaving.” he announced.

* * *

Tony opened a box to peek inside. “Okay, I need to know right now who ordered the Hawaiian so I can fire them from the team.” he said with a disgusted frown, putting it back on the table.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you just tried it.” Clint insisted, pulling it closer and taking out a slice, balancing two more boxes in his other hand. The living room was bustling with everyone carrying plates, boxes and an assortment of drinks to the coffee table that was already proving to be way too small for this job.

Well, almost everyone. Steve was in a call with Sharon, and when 17 offered to help she was promptly pushed on the couch, Sam piling pillows to her sides and Bucky threatening to tie her down if she even dared to think about getting up.

She felt a little left out and wished to busy herself with anything to get her mind to stop spinning. Fury tried to protect her as much as he could during the meeting, but at the end of the day, Hansen was still her boss and not him - and she stayed true to her promise to recall her, taking her off of Killian’s case permanently. An easy lie of having to do some more medical checkups and paperwork bought her a few extra hours and while she packed together her things, the Avengers decided to sneak out and buy what looked like a diner’s worth of pizza to throw a little party for her.

Feeling a few tears prick at her eyes at the unfairness of the whole situation, she put a quick stop to it by wiping at her face, hoping that the others were too busy to notice.

“Hey, don’t look so glum, Munchkin. You can’t be sad at your own party.” Tony walked past her and pinched her cheeks playfully. “And you’ll be flying home on a private jet! How cool is that, huh? I mean, you don’t have to thank me, you know, that’s not why I’m bringing it up...”

She laughed lightly, pushing his hands away. “I’m  _ fine _ , Tony. I’m okay. And thanks for the jet.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for our precious little shortcake.”

“Ugh, I’m not -” with a sigh, she slumped back, knowing well by now that it was pointless to fight Tony and his nicknames. “I just wish we were having a party for a different reason.”

“Maybe we can throw you another one when you get back here and help us catch Quinn, hmm?” Sam asked, sitting down and gesturing towards her side. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll live, I guess.” she said with a half-smile, shifting against the pillow to get more comfortable. “The ribs are only fractured and should heal in about six weeks. Until that, it just hurts to breathe, hurts to walk, to cough,... and don’t even ask sneezing. It almost made me pass out.”

Nat handed her an opened bottle of beer. “Here you go. Couldn’t find any whiskey, so I hope this’ll do.” she winked and sat on one of the chairs.

“Thanks, I was planning on avoiding whiskey for a while anyhow.” 17 smiled, raising the bottle to her mouth only for it to be snatched from her hands. “H-hey!”

“I’ll be taking that, thank you.” Bucky said, carefully sitting down next to her and shooting her a baffled look. “What? You didn’t actually think I’d let you drink alcohol on all those painkillers, right?”

“Oh,” she rolled her eyes and waved her hands as if it was nothing “don’t worry about that. I figured we’d drink a little, so I actually didn’t take my med- … ic-...” she paused, a terrified look on her face as she only now realized what she just admitted to.

“What was that, Trouble?” Bucky asked, eyes flashing dangerously as he narrowed them at her.

“I uh, I mean. I… forgot to take them?” she tried in a squeaky voice.

“Now.” Bucky said, and it wasn’t a proposal. She tried pouting and summoned her best puppy dog eyes, to which Bucky simply shook his head and the rest of the team burst out laughing.

Muttering to herself, 17 took a few pills of ibuprofen, a betrayed expression on her face.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. Doc’s orders.” He wrinkled his nose, putting on mock anger when she stuck out her tongue defiantly.

Clint suddenly perked up as if remembering something, half a slice of pineapple hanging from his mouth. “Did your boss say anything about, you know? Your parents?”

“Oh my  _ god _ , Barton!”

“Seriously, Clint?” Sam looked at him bewildered.

“What? I just thought -”

“See, that’s the problem. Don’t think. Leave that to me.” Tony said, shooting him a sharp look.

“It’s okay, guys.” 17 said, snuggling closer to Bucky, who wrapped a protective arm around her. “Not talking about it isn’t going to change it. So, yeah, it uh… it came up. We don’t know yet if what Killian said is true or not, so they are going to start an investigation. As far as I’m concerned, I never knew. They…” she took a breath, pausing to collect herself a little and she felt Bucky’s hold tighten a fraction around her. Once again thankful for an anchor amidst her sea of thoughts, she cleared her throat before saying. “...they never told me anything about it. I knew dad was from Germany, but other than that… nothing. I had a strict curfew, and always had to tell them where I was, where I was going, who was with me... but as a kid I simply wrote that off as them being a little over-protective.”

“What about your files?” Natasha asked, a gentle curiosity lacing her voice.

“Hansen wanted to keep the security breach a secret, so she locked all our files while she tried to figure out who broke into the system and what they wanted, but now they are going to keep it locked for the investigation.”

They all fell silent, not sure how they could cheer her up when the elevator doors opened, Steve rushing towards them.

“Hey, sorry for being late! Sharon says hi to everyone. Especially to you. She’s sorry she couldn’t make it.” he said, giving 17 a warm smile.

“It’s okay, tell her I said hi, too.” she said.

Expression laced with worry, Steve looked her over. “Did you take your medicine already? And why are you not eating?” he paused to glare at Bucky. “Don’t hold her so tight, Buck, she’s still healing.”

“Whatever you say, pal.” Bucky said with a chuckle, sipping from his beer but Tony just rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“God help us, he’s playing the Team Mom again.”

“I’m not playing a team mom,” Steve said indignantly as he took the largest slice of pizza on a plate, handing it over to 17. “You comfortable?” he asked quietly.

Sam turned to Clint, voice dripping with mock worry. “Are you comfortable?”

“I wouldn’t let that slip, just saying.” Nat cocked an eyebrow at them.

“Okay, first, you’re just jealous,” Steve said, filling up a glass with ice “and second, that’s not how I talk.”

“Yeah, you gotta do it with the Cap voice.” Bucky laughed.

“Oh, you mean like this?” Sam puffed out his chest and saluted to Clint, deepening his voice. “Greetings, young American Citizen! Settled comfortably, are you?”

They all burst out laughing while Steve stood there, mouth agape. “I would never say that!”

“ _ I would never say that! _ ” Sam parroted before he too started laughing too hard to keep it up. 17 watched them fondly, trying to hold her composure. She leaned against Bucky, who was currently wiping tears from his eyes, clearly amused by the show.

Steve walked up behind Sam, dropping an ice cube down his shirt, causing him to scream and Clint to positively  _ howl _ . The image of Sam twisting and turning on the couch, trying to get the ice out from under his clothes while cursing like a sailor was too much and after a snort, 17 started laughing too. About two seconds later, her body helpfully reminded her of her cracked ribs as a sharp pain knocked the air out of her, causing her to cough and wheeze.

They all fell quiet immediately and watched with worry as Bucky rubbed her back. “Easy doll, easy. Sammy’s not worth suffocating for.”

“I’m good.” she waved her hand, trying to stifle another round of coughs. “Just don’t make me laugh, please.” she groaned, standing up abruptly and heading for the balcony. “I’ll be right back, just need a little fresh air.”

Bucky watched her with a sad expression, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth before getting up and going after 17. Once on the balcony, he pulled the door closed behind them. She leaned against the railing with her left hand, right one pressed against her sides as she took a few, forcefully deep breaths, whole body tense with the effort.

  
“You alright?” he asked quietly, walking up next to her.

She nodded, slowly relaxing her shoulders after a loud exhale. “Yeah, it’s okay now. The doc told me to do some breathing exercises. They help a little.” her voice was a little weak, but she shrugged, turning towards the city and pretending to be busy examining the view. It was early afternoon, and she had to admit, she didn’t expect to say goodbye to New York so soon when she woke up this morning.

_ Or to say goodbye to Bucky _ . It all happened too quickly. Not 24 hours ago she would have given the world to talk to him in private, and now she couldn’t find the words. There was so much she wanted to say, but wasn’t sure if this was truly the right moment now. Was this the last chance to talk to him? Maybe. But it was far from the right one.

She felt him settle next to her, arms touching and next thing she knew, she leaned her head against his shoulder with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.” she said.

_ I’m sorry. _ It was ridiculous. But it was true.

Eyes screwed shut, Bucky nuzzled her hair. “I’m sorry, too.” he mumbled.

Brows furrowing, she angled her head to look up to him. “What for, Bucky?”

He huffed. “For everything. I’m sorry you got shot, for starters.”

“That wasn’t your fault, silly.” she nestled closer to him, wanting to be as close to him as physically possible.

“Still. I wish I could’ve been there with you.”

“Would have been nice. I really wanted to talk to you yesterday, you know.” she confessed.

“Yeah? What about, doll?” he wrapped an arm around her and his stomach did an excited flip when he felt her snuggling up even closer. Gods, he never wants to let this girl go. Fury will have to pry her from his arms with a crowbar.

“Remember that time, a few nights ago?” she felt embarrassed when she heard how her voice trembled, but Bucky deserved to know so she carried on. “On the corridor? I’m- gosh, I’m really sorry I left you like that. I-I didn’t mean to.” she stammered, turning in his arms and burying her face against Bucky’s chest, words slightly muffled, but still audible. “I really wanted to kiss you. I think I love you.”

_ A crowbar? _ Forget it. Tony in his full Iron Man suit couldn’t wrench her from his embrace now. He stood there, dumfounded, his heart about to burst from his chest because this couldn’t be real, right?

When Bucky said nothing, 17 stiffened against him, cursing herself for being such a fool. She shouldn’t have said it, it was stupid, and she messed this all up now. She lifted her head to look up at him, feeling tears in the corners of her eyes. “Bucky?”

He swallowed against the tightening feeling in his throat. “I think I love you too, doll. Sorry for not saying it sooner.”

Cheeks burning hot, 17 buried her face back against his chest, relief washing over her as she took a shaky breat. “I’m so sorry, too. I’m so sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” he placed a hand under her chin, lifting her face so she looked at him again. “We’ll work something out, I promise.”

She closed her eyes, whispering. “God, just kiss me, please.”

Bucky laughed, his heart full to the brim with joy. “Oh, I knew you were nothing but trouble.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, finally sure of his feelings.

17 felt her heart skip a beat, the softness of his lips and his hands caressing her sides almost too much, causing her to shiver in delight. Opening her mouth slightly, she had to fight a moan when he slid his tongue over hers. There was nothing hungry or demanding about him - his kiss was gentle, soft, and exploring.

She sneaked her hands under his shirt, enjoying the feeling of goosebumps tingling on his skin in the wake of her fingertips when she started to feel dizzy and short of breath. Except,  _ wait _ . This wasn’t like in the movies.

She broke the kiss with a gasp, clutching her sides with a hiss.

“Sorry, doll.” Bucky was quick to apologize. “Was hopin’ to take your breath away, but not like that.” He dropped his hands to her hips, holding her gently.

“It’s not you, dummy.” she playfully swatted at his arm.

“So you’re saying my kiss wasn’t good?” he faked a pout, and god, she wanted to kiss him again.

“I never said  _ that _ .” she smiled cheekily. “It was a great kiss, actually. Just call me back in a few weeks when my damned ribs heal.”

  
“Deal.” he said, smirking and carefully, he pulled her close again, foreheads pressed together and they closed their eyes, bumping noses with silly smiles on their faces.

Leaning forward on the couch to get a better look, Sam grinned triumphantly, holding a hand out to Tony.

“Pay up. They kissed.”

* * *

Everyone said goodbye in their own way. Tasha gave a quick hug, telling her to be safe as if she was simply going on a trip to the grocery store. Sam asked for some postcards and Clint begged her for some ‘ _ real german beer _ ’ the next time she visits. Steve squished her in a bear hug that threatened to crack her ribs even more, letting go only after she swore an oath on giving a call as soon as she arrived. Tony refused to take back his Led Zeppelin shirts, insisting they were a gift and promising to take a look at their security systems, grumbling something about ‘ _ Europeans not doing it right _ ’.

Bucky took her bag without a word and went to the jet with her, clinging to her presence like a lifeline. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was already waiting for them, ready for takeoff.

“Well, I guess that’s my ride.” she said, doing the worst impression of a nonchalant shrug. Bucky’s heart ached at the sight. 

“Look, doll, I’m sorry.”

She smiled. A sad, but honest smile.

“It’s okay, Bucky. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

He nodded, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I uh, I never even asked for your number.”

“Mmm, I have yours, don’t worry.” she hummed, a conspiratory smile on her face.

“...what? How?”

“Steve thought you’d be too chicken to ask for mine, so he gave me yours.” she winked. She dared to wink at him, and Bucky felt short of breath at the sight.

“Damn punk.” he murmured, shaking his head.

“Oh, and I almost forgot.” she reached for his hand - his metal one - putting something small inside and closing his fingers around it before he could see.

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

She kept her hands around his, keeping it closed as she shrugged. And if Bucky wasn’t in love before, he surely fell for the mischief glinting in her eyes now. “I might be taken off the case, but I still have some friends. I think you’ll like it.”

Pressing a kiss to his cheeks, she grabbed her bag and got on the jet, sending him one last wave of goodbye.

* * *

Not bothering to change into something more comfortable, Bucky collapsed on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He raised his hand, looking at the small piece of paper that 17 gave him before carefully unfolding it. In neat handwriting, it had a series of numbers and letters on it.

He looked at it over and over again, trying to figure out what it could be. The pattern of it seemed familiar, but he was at a loss. Not a coordinate, and hopefully not some secret code he had to crack because god knows, he  _ hated _ cryptography. It couldn’t be… 

He sat up, realization slowly dawning on his face. Quickly he reached for his laptop and asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to bring up her file.

With trembling fingers, he entered the code, and a few seconds later, as it loaded,... ahh, there it was.   
  
_ Her. _   
  
Her entire life on a computer screen. And on the very top of it, _ her name.  _ And he felt like the whole world shifted under him.


	13. Bitter Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to deal with 17′s absence by bottling up his feelings. Surprisingly, it’s not going well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: none

At a secluded corner of the garage, Bucky sat under a strong neon light. Surrounded by small parts scattered all around, his jeans and black sweater were covered in grease and dirt as he tinkered on his motorbike, the occasional curse breaking the silence when something didn’t go his way. Steve leaned against the aluminium cabinets, watching quietly.

For the past few weeks, Bucky has been awful distant with everyone. They tried to give him the space he needed, but slowly, it was building up to be too much. When he didn’t show up for their early morning training, Steve found him here on the cold floor, refusing to move until his bike was fixed again.

Distant footsteps and a song whistled completely out of tune had Bucky look up briefly, then turn back to his work with a grunt. Clint walked up to them, cheery as ever with two mugs - one of them a familiar bright orange with Snoopy smiling off of it, angering Bucky even further.

“Thought I’d find you guys here.” he greeted. “How long have you been here, Lefty?”

“Dunno’” Bucky answered gruffly. “Since 3am I guess?” he absentmindedly cursed when a jammed part refused to come loose.

“Uh-huh. Want some help?”

“You wanna’ help me?” he scowled at him over the seat of his motorbike “Go away.”

“Fine by me.” he shrugged, unfazed as he placed the two cups next to Steve. Clint was about to leave when he abruptly turned back, taking back Bucky’s mug. “No coffee for you!” he announced, marching back towards the elevator.

Steve couldn’t help the chuckle as Bucky just sat there, mouth agape, turning towards him with a pout. “Can I have yours?”

“Not a chance, pal.” he shook his head, quickly reaching for his coffee, the warmth of it welcome in the cool air of the garage. “So, care to tell me what’s wrong?”

Bucky gave him the look of a betrayed puppy, then turned back to his bike as if he didn’t hear him.

  
“You’ll have to talk to us eventually.”

A resentful huff. 

“Buck, It’s been two weeks.”

“I  _ know _ .” he muttered, still refusing to look up. A few seconds later, he snorted and shook his head, as if fighting an internal argument. “‘S just hard, ya know?”

“I know. But hiding in your room or sulking down here won’t help you, or 17.”

It’s been two weeks since 17 was called back to Europe and a teammate of hers was sent as a replacement. Agent 42 was a prick. An absolute asshole who refused to cooperate with the Avengers, ignoring their commands and showing up late for briefings. But as Hansen’s lapdog, he was untouchable.

Agent 42 was a prick, and Bucky felt his blood boil just by thinking about him. After the fiasco in Atlanta, Killian disappeared off their grids without a single trace. They tried checking into everything - his bank accounts showed no transactions, the places he seemingly owned had nothing to do with his name, and they were unable to find out where he was hiding out again.

Steve even suggested that there was a possibility he went back to Europe to lie low until things settled here in the US. That meant they were stuck in an endless cycle of useless meetings. Bucky wasn’t even allowed to train with Agent 42 - something that angered him at first because he would have loved to let his frustration out on that little brat - but he had to realize it was for the best. Given the chance, he probably would have broken his nose. Or his arm.

Hell, he would have loved to break both, if Bucky wanted to be completely honest.

Maybe his ankle too?  _ Nah, that would be too much _ .

“Pass me the torque wrench at least?” he asked, hoping to change the topic and wiping at his nose, frowning when he saw his hands were covered in grease.

Steve picked one from the table, reaching out to hand it over, but just as Bucky was about to grab it, he pulled it back. “See you at training in a few hours?”

“Depends.” Bucky growled. “Will you finally let me spar with that brat?”

Steve laughed. He had a fairly good idea about what would go down between the two of them. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Come on. Just a lil’ nosebleed. I won’t even use my metal arm.” 

“Trust me, pal, I’d love to see it. But I can’t let you.”

“Right.” Bucky huffed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose and smearing more grease on his face. “It’s just that every time I look at that little prick, all I can think about is that 17 had to work with assholes like that for teammates. And the way he talked about her the other day...”

He trailed off into a growl, looking back at Steve who just grinned. “If it makes you feel any better, Nat gave him a pretty good thrashing for that.”

“Good. Shame I wasn’t there to see it.” he was smiling to himself, imagining Tasha giving the beating of a lifetime to that arrogant asshole when his phone buzzed. He carefully wiped his hands on a rag before sliding it out of his pockets, his face instantly lighting up with an even wider smile.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the gym in 2 hours. No excuses.” Steve said as he pushed himself off the cabinets, walking off towards the elevators. “And tell her I said hi.”

Confused, Bucky asked, “What makes you so sure it’s her?”

Looking back with a knowing smirk, his friend just shrugged. “Call it a lucky guess. Be sure to apologize to Clint later, too.”

“I’m an adult, I don’t need you to tell me what to do, punk.” He wrinkled his nose angrily, but a smile was still lingering on his lips.

Steve’s laughter echoed in the garage. “Whatever you say, jerk. Just wash your face, you look like a racoon.”

* * *

Hours later, Bucky was slumped on the couch in the common room, a half-empty beer bottle in his metal hand. The tv played the rerun of a crappy sitcom while he thumbed over his phone, typing out a message. Halfway through, he changed his mind, deleting it completely and dropping his phone lazily on a pillow.

Training with Steve got him occupied for a few hours and working out felt good. But the tension he hoped to get rid of was now back in full force, his mind replaying the events from two weeks ago repeatedly, trying to figure out what he should’ve done differently.

The sound of footsteps had him perk his ears and soon enough, the couch dipped next to him.

  
“Hey man!” Sam greeted. “Been looking for you all over.”

“Hey.” Bucky spared him a glance, but nothing more, pretending to watch the tv.

“You know, you haven’t been yourself lately, and we’ve all noticed the improvement.” he ignored his frown, nudging his shoulders playfully. 

Buck took a long, deep breath. “Look, Sam, if you’ve come to make fun of me, then don’t.”   
  
“If I wanted to make fun of you, I would have already done so.” he considered Bucky patiently for a few seconds but when he didn’t answer, continued with “I just came to check up on you.”    
  
Bucky grimaced. “Did Steve send you?”   
  
“Nobody sent me and you know it, so stop sulking, and tell me what’s up.” Sam said, crossing his arms defiantly. “Come on. This isn’t you, and I want my buddy back.”

“‘M right ‘ere.” he muttered.

“No, you’re not. Your body's here but your little cyborg mind is stuck in that phone that you’re using to text her non-stop.” he said, pointing at said phone accusingly. 

  
“What makes you think it’s her I’m texting?” he asked, swirling the remaining beer around in the bottle absentmindedly.   
  
Sam gave him a look. “Really?”   
  
Bucky leaned back on the couch, heaving a heavy sigh. Sam was right, he wasn’t himself. Guilt gripped at his chest when thought back on how much he neglected his friends these past few weeks, just because he was so caught up in his misery. 

“Fine. We’ve been… chatting.” he admitted with reluctance. “Not much, I mean, I don’t want to bother her or anything. You know?” he took another swig of his beer while Sam stayed quiet, watching him patiently to allow him to talk more if he wanted to.

“She’s… “ Bucky paused, chewing over the words before speaking again. “She’s okay. Off field work until she gets better, as she should be, mind you.” he stressed sternly, clearly still worried over her injuries. “Said she’s itching to go back to training and kick some ass.”   
  
Sam laughed. “I can imagine. Anything else?”   
  
“I don’t really know.” he hummed. “I mean… yeah sure I write to her but...” he paused again, not sure what to say. He spent his time reflecting on his feelings, and while he tried to keep in touch with 17, he wondered whether there was really any point in it. She was stuck in Berlin, recovering, and even if she truly loved him, her entire life connected her there. She shouldn’t be forced to give that up for anybody.

As for Bucky, he knew he loved her. God, what he wouldn’t give just to feel the burn of her touch on his skin again. But his call was here, and even if they managed to get their hands on Quinn, it would only mean the end of the mission, inevitably leaving no reason for 17 to come back here ever again.

Texts were nice to wake up to, sure. But the more time passed, the more he feared there was no reason to pursue this relationship. With a defeated huff, he scratched at his unkempt, growing stubble and shrugged.

  
“I don’t even know what I want anymore.” he blurted out, downing the rest of his beer in one go.

He felt Sam squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay, Buck. Nobody expects you to. Just don’t go all silent on us, okay?”

“Sure.” he mumbled. Seeing he was lost in his thoughts, Sam decided to give him space and with an affectionate pat on the back, got up to leave.

Bucky sat there, staring ahead and turning around only when Sam was almost out of the living room. “Hey!” he shouted after him.

“Huh?”

“Thanks, Sammy.” he said earnestly.

He just smiled, turning back around. “Don’t mention it, Tin Man. You know where to find me if you need a talk.”

* * *

Talking a bit to Steve and Sam might have helped at first, but as soon as night fell, Bucky was left alone with his thoughts again. After another beer or two, he got back into his room, changing into a pair of grey sweatpants and throwing his dirty clothes in the general direction of the bathroom before climbing into bed.

Checking his phone and seeing no new messages, he thumbed through his saved files until he found a video. It was one of the first things he found attached to 17’s files - one of her interview videos from when she applied to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Losing count of how many times he watched it already, Bucky pressed play, getting as comfortable as he could with the phone clutched in one hand.

The recording couldn’t have been more than a year old, yet 17 looked impossibly younger. Brown hair much shorter, and a certain innocence still on her face as she sat in a simple, undecorated room across from the interviewer who fired question after question at her. And yet, her brown eyes burned with the same eager focus that Bucky got to know.

_ “Alright, Miss, uh... Fahr… Farkaz?” the agent in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform mumbled, flipping through a few pages in front of him. _

_ “It’s um, it’s with a  _ sh _ sound at the end, Sir.  _ Farkas _.” _

_ “Right, right. Farkas.” he cleared his throat as a way of apology, glancing back at his dossier. “We ran a background check after your first appointment and everything seemed to be in order. You’re to finish your studies in a few months and would like to enroll right after that, correct?” _

_ “Correct, Sir.” she answered. _

_ The agent hummed. “Your grades are perfect and one of your teachers sent us a recommendation letter, too, so there should be no problems with that.” _

_ 17’s chest swelled, visibly fidgeting with excitement before the agent continued. _

_ “However, it says here your parents died when you were 13, and that one of your aunts became your legal guardian until the age of 18. Care to tell me more about that?” _

_ She froze, trying to process the question. The man looked up at her expectantly, eyebrows arching. _

_ “I’m... I’m not sure there’s much to tell about it, Sir?” she blinked. _

_ “It’s just a simple question. Standard procedure.” _

_ “My parents were simple people.” 17 started, a little unsure. “My father was teaching part time while my mother worked for a local accounting business. One day they went out and there was a robbery at a store.” _

_ She swallowed, falling quiet. _

_ “And?” the agent asked, prompting her to continue. _

_ “I don’t know all the details about the incident, because the police never found out much. But when they tried to protect an employee, they both got shot. I think they just wanted to help, to do what’s right, even if it caused them their lives. After that I decided that I’d like to honor them by doing the same.” _

_ “We understand that not having any close relations might make it seem easier to join us, but at the same time, I’d like you to reflect on the fact that it is a very taxing profession. You would have to give up contact with everyone you ever knew, including any remaining relatives, friends - everyone. On top of that, you might be assigned to missions that would ultimately endanger your life. Do you think you are ready for that commitment?” _

_ She smiled, eyes sparkling and the answer easy on her lips.  _

_ “Honestly, Sir? This is all I really want to do. If there’s even the slightest chance that one day I’ll save a life? I want to do it. Then all the hard work, all the years of studying and all those hours spent training till my whole body ached will be more than worth it.” She shrugged. “I just want to protect others from what I went through. And I won’t mind risking my own life over and over again until that day comes.” _

_ The agent regarded her silently, but a telltale smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Right. Let’s see the next questions…”  _

Bucky revinded the video to the beginning, putting the phone next to himself and curling up around a pillow, listening to 17’s voice as he fell into a miserable sleep.


	14. Oh My Love My Heart Don't Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky decides to try his hand at multitasking, balancing nightmares and a long-distance relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: mention of nightmares, loneliness, crying

With a strangled cry, Bucky rolled off of the bed, jerking awake when he hit the floor. After untangling himself from the blankets he sat up, face buried in his hands as he gasped for air, shivering as the cool night air hit his sweat-covered body. He forced his breathing to a slower pace, desperately trying to forget the images he saw. 

For a week now, nightmares haunted him; most of them involving 17 getting shot and bleeding out right in front of him. Even just now, it all felt too real as he stood there, unable to do anything as she —

Bucky swallowed the sob bubbling up in his throat, getting up with a grunt and stumbling out into the bathroom. Squinting under the sudden light, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping it’ll shock him into a more conscious state.

The first nightmares were pretty bearable - by his standards, at least - but the last few days were getting worse. He wiped his face with a towel, chancing a glance to the mirror. God, he looked like shit with those deep circles under his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself back to the bed, reaching for his phone. It was just past 2am. Too early for a morning workout, especially with his entire body still trembling from the shock of that dream, but also way too early to get up and do something more productive. Reading? No. He wouldn’t be able to focus enough.

He climbed back into bed, sitting up and resting his back against the headboard, aimlessly scrolling through his phone when he realized he unconsciously thumbed over 17’s last text. It was already past 8am in Berlin, meaning she was certainly up. He bit his lips, hesitating. She had to be awake, sure, but what if she was busy, or in the middle of a meeting?

Gods, what if she  _ wasn’t _ busy? What would he tell her? They’ve been texting all this time, but this was something different. He never told her about the nightmares, not wanting to make her worry. Besides, wasn’t it creepy to have murderous nightmares about your girlfriend? At the end of the day, she wasn’t even her girlfriend.

Bucky rubbed a hand across his face, feeling comically insecure. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of going back to sleep, but it simply sent shivers down his spine. He just couldn’t do it. Not after those horrible images, he couldn’t.

Before he could stop himself, he typed out a quick ‘ _ hey _ ’ to her and pressed send. Regret hit almost instantly, a lump building up in his throat as three little dots bounced on the screen.

(02:14) 17: HEY YOURSELF

(02:14) 17: SHOULDN’T YOU BE SLEEPING RN? WHAT TIME IS IT THERE?

Bucky chewed on the inside of his mouth a bit, trying to run through the different scenarios of what exactly he should say. In the end, he decided to go with the truth.   
  
(02:16) BUCKY: I HAVEN’T BEEN SLEEPING WELL.

(02:16) BUCKY: I DON’T THINK I CAN GO BACK TO SLEEP TONIGHT.

(02:17) 17: NIGHTMARE?   
  


Bucky felt his body tense up. The mere idea of admitting to it made him feel uncomfortable, as if it meant accepting that something was not alright - but he’d hate to lie to her. As vulnerable a confession as this was, he trusted her and typed out a reply.

(02:17) BUCKY: YEAH.   
(02:18) 17: OH.   
  
_ Oh, indeed _ , he thought, heart skipping a beat when he saw the next message.   
  
(02:18) 17: I COULD CALL YOU IF YOU WANT ME TO?   
  
Before he could protest, the phone buzzed in his hands, startling him so he dropped it with a yelp, grabbing it just before it could tumble off the bed. He stared at the incoming video call in utter horror. 

_ Focus, Barnes _ , he told himself. If you can kill Hydra agents for a living, surely you can man up and handle a call, right?

Right. He hit the answer button, leaning back and holding the phone a bit awkwardly.

  
“Hey!” 17 waved, and Bucky swallowed a cry when he saw her face again after such a long time. She looked tired, and he swore he saw sadness in those usually bright brown eyes, but there was nothing more beautiful than this. Just her. He watched, silent in his astonishment of her as she entered a room and closed the door behind herself. “Everything okay? You took a while to pick up.” she asked with slight worry.   
  
“Hey.” he croaked, his voice feeling weak and frail all of a sudden. “Yeah, everything okay, just uh, just dropped the phone. Sorry for disturbing you.” he tried to put on an apologetic smile.   
  
She beamed back at him, her face radiating kindness. “It’s alright, Bucky. I don’t have much to do right now, anyhow. I’ll have a briefing later, but until that, I’m just going to hide in this empty meeting room and keep you company.” she winked, and Bucky’s stomach did a funny little flip at that. “So, do you…” she hesitated for a bit, treading on unknown territory. “...do you wanna talk about it?”   
  
“No!” Bucky answered way too quickly and just a little too loud, and it startled her, but she said nothing as he cleared his throat and repeated it again, softer and gentler this time. “No, it’s just.” he hesitated a bit, chewing over the words before blurting them out. “It’s just that I miss you, doll, that’s all.”   
  
She averted her eyes, looking at the ground, and Bucky panicked. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. This wasn’t the right time, but how could he think straight at two in the morning, looking at that pretty face through a much too tiny screen. He was about to take it all back, when suddenly, she raised her eyes, glistening with tears.   
  
“I miss you too.” she managed to squeak out, trying to hide her face with her free hand as she cried.   
  
And  _ god _ , if that didn’t break him into a million pieces. It pawed at his soul and wrenched at his heart, to see her so sad, and so miserable all because of him.

“Doll,  _ sweetheart _ ,” he tried, but the next words choked and dissolved somewhere halfway up his throat and his resolve crumbled into dust as he started crying too. He wanted to stay strong for her, but how could he when all his days were filled with misery without her. If only she knew he’d give the world to hold her right now and take her pain away, to soothe this ache in his own chest in return.

“Sweetheart.” he said again, voice fraying at the edges when he heard her hiccup with a sob “doll, baby, don’t cry.” Quickly, he rubbed the tears from his eyes, willing himself to stop. “Please, don’t cry.” and it was a plea.

She swallowed the next sob, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater, nodding, because words weren’t easy to come by. She tried to smile at him, but the tears flowing down her face made it unconvincing.

“Don’t cry, babydoll, we’ll be alright.” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, it’s… it’s just so  _ unfair _ .” a shaky breath, lower lips trembling and threatening with another sob and Bucky wished he could crawl through the screen to her. Break through the glass and climb out on the other side, never to let go of her again.

“Don’t cry, please, darlin’. It hurts so much to see you cry.” Oh, how he wished he knew what to say to make her feel alright again. To make it all disappear. To make her understand just how much he truly missed her. Missed that smile that was nowhere to be found now, missed her laugh that set his blood on fire. “We’ll figure something out, okay? I know I ain’t givin’ up on you.” and it was a plea too, but also a promise.

17 rubbed her face with the palm of her hand, sighing tiredly. “I-I’m not giving up on you, either.” she mumbled.

Bucky chuckled. “Good. You’d better not.” he added teasingly, trying to smile though a few tears still stung his own eyes. “Why don’t you tell me something good, hm? Maybe about training. My favorite girl ready to go kick some ass?”

A breathy laugh, and a few more tears dutifully soaked up by the sweater as she sniffed and wiped her face. “Yeah, I’m more than ready,” she managed with the most fragile of smiles “but I still have to sit it out for a week or so.”

“Yeah? What did the doc say?”

17 shrugged, pouting a little. “Just the usual. If I’m lucky, I can go back to training next week. Maybe. It’s almost completely healed now, I mean, it’s been a month since… you know.” she trailed off weakly but oh, he knew alright. Could never forget.

“You must be excited, doll. I’m sure your team misses you too.” Bucky hoped this topic would keep them both busy from the sorrow tonight, but questioned it when he saw the sadness in her eyes.

“I don’t think they’ll be allowed to train with me.” 17 said, pulling a face. 

Bucky frowned, suspicions growing when she avoided his eyes. “Why’s that?”

She pressed her lips tightly together and shrugged, trying to sweep it under the rug.

“Doll, what are you not telling me?” he asked.

17 winced. “ _ Imighthavebeenkickedoutoftheteam. _ ” she blurted out, eyes scrunched closed, bracing herself for the inevitable.

“What?!” Bucky sat up angrily, blood boiling, threatening to bubble over and make him really throw away everything to go over there to start punching faces. “They can’t do that!”

She smiled sadly, calm with acceptance. “I’m afraid they can. It was a direct order from the directory. After they uh, they finished the investigation about my parents.”

“You never told me about this babe, when was this?”

“Yesterday. I was afraid to tell you, didn’t want to make you worry. I’m sorry, Bucky.”

He felt guilt for lashing out at her, leaning back with a heavy sigh, summoning a calmer voice as he gently asked, “Do you wanna’ tell me about it now?”

“As good a time as any, I guess.” 17 said with a rueful smile, trying to lighten the mood, but she was so broken and sad as she talked. “They should open my files in a few days anyhow. But, uh, yeah, what…” she took a deep breath, wiping off another tear as she strengthened her back and braced herself against the words “what Killian said was true. My mother worked for the National Security Service within the Military and retired when I was born. And apparently, my father was a simple man from Germany, abducted by Hydra for his exceptional work in the scientific field.”

She huffed, shaking her head, still finding it hard to believe.

“Doll, I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine.” she said, but her eyes glazed over with fresh tears. “I’m fine, okay?” she insisted, averting her eyes. “It’s just that, I don’t understand why they never told me. I mean, you didn’t know them, but they were  _ good people _ , Bucky. Everybody loved them, there wasn’t anybody who didn’t get along with them. I just wish they told me.” she swallowed as her voice slightly cracked.

“Doll, you know they never told you because they loved you, and wanted you to be safe.” Bucky said gently.

“Yeah, well, that worked out splendidly, huh?” she snorted.

“Sweetheart, they just wanted what’s best for you.”

“I know.” she whispered, sniffing. “It’s just that after they… after they died, I was so lonely. I was so alone and afraid, and I swore not to let other people go through what I did. I was thirteen years old, for god's sake for all I knew, my parents died for nothing. I wished that what happened to them could have been avoided, so I started to study to become maybe a military officer or something, right? Until I met this guy at the Academy who bragged about trying to get into S.H.I.E.L.D. … never heard of them before, but when I learned what they do? I knew it’s where I wanted to be. I just knew I wanted to protect others.”

Bucky smiled softly. “If it means anything, I’m sure they would be very proud of you for that.”

“I just don’t wanna be alone. And I know it sounds silly, but I know I would have been able to handle all of this better if I had you here.” she confessed shyly.

“Believe me, darlin’, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to be there with you.” She fell silent, at that, so Bucky asked, only half a joke. “Maybe I could go visit you then, huh?”   
  
And at the thought of that, finally, she smiled again. “That’d be nice. Have you ever been to Berlin?” 17 asked, perking up a little.   
  
Bucky slid down in the bed and lay on his side, placing the phone against a pillow a bit farther from him, thinking it all over. Wiggled around until he got comfortable. “Passed through once, yeah.” and it wasn’t a complete lie. But he didn’t want that piece of his past right now, though. Not here, not in this moment. Not when her eyes lit up with excitement and that contagious smile spread even wider across her face.   
  
“Oh, you absolutely have to visit me one day. I could be your tour guide! Have you ever had currywurst?”   
  
“Never heard of it, I’m afraid.”   
  
“My  _ god _ you have to try it! There’s this great place I know!” she added, voice full of giddy excitement.   
  
Bucky closed his eyes, listening to her voice and humming contentedly. “Sounds good to me, doll.”    
  
And so he laid there, while she told him of all the things she’ll show him. Stories about the Brandenburg Gate, the countless museums and the zoo - the otters were her favorites and a  _ must see _ , apparently. Chattered away about her favorite café with the best chocolate cake one could ever have. Listened to her talk about the Berlin Cathedral, the beautiful streets and the statues littered across the city. 

  
Bucky wasn’t sure when he drifted off, but he couldn’t remember the last time he slept so well. And that night, he dreamed of playful little otters eating chocolate cake.

* * *

17 kept talking in a soft voice, even long after noticing he fell quiet. She told him all about her dreams, of things she still wanted to achieve and how she was itching to train with them again once she recovers fully. After a few more minutes and making sure that Bucky was really asleep - the soft snores gave him away - she couldn’t help but look at him through the phone in silent wonder. The circles under his eyes were still visible, and that once boyish, handsome stubble started to turn into a scruffy beard - but he finally looked relaxed and at peace.

She made certain that the memory of this conversation is burned into her heart before carefully hanging up and holding the phone to her chest, pressing it right over her heart as she started to cry.


	15. I've Been Here Once Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian is finally found and the Avengers get a chance to capture him. But can Bucky concentrate on the mission while he worries over Agent 17? Where did she disappeared and why is she not answering her phone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, guns, fights

Bucky still felt groggy after being abruptly woken by F.R.I.D.A.Y. not 10 minutes ago, but he knew better than to argue. If Fury called for an emergency meeting at 6am, then it was for a damn important reason.

He checked his phone, sighing when he saw no new notifications. Ever since their video call a week ago, conversation became much easier with 17. It felt as if though all this time, they held something back that was now free to flow between them. That is, until yesterday when she went completely silent with no warning.

At first, Bucky simply shrugged it off as her being busy - maybe even cleared for training finally - but as the hours passed, he was getting more suspicious and worried. He sent her several texts, tried to call and even left a voice message asking her to call him as soon as she can, but there was still no answer. He swallowed his panic, pocketing his phone and hurrying off towards the meeting rooms.

Right now, he needed a clear head and focus, though he was not the only one. Everyone looked exhausted - except for Steve, who was probably just back from a run at the crack of dawn. Frowning, Bucky sat down next to Nat. She pushed a mug of coffee towards him which he accepted with a content sigh, mumbling out a thank you.

“Figured you’d need it. How’s sleep?” she asked, a twinkle in her smart green eyes.

Bucky smiled, even if there was a bit of sadness and worry woven into it. “Better, actually.”

“Alright, ladies,” Fury’s voice boomed, interrupting them as he entered the room, causing Clint to almost choke on his own coffee. Swiftly, he walked to the front, throwing a file on the desk. “About 6 hours ago, we received intel from our local agent that Killian popped up his ugly lil’ weasel head. Apparently, he thought the coast was clear. He lied low for a few hours, but 15 minutes ago a report came in that he’s up for business again. He’s heading for the old warehouse as we’re speaking.”

If Killian was back, that meant that if they acted quickly, they could catch him off guard and put an easy end to this, the mere prospect of it causing everyone to stir in their seats.

“Orders, sir?” Steve asked briskly, ready for action as always.

“Catch him. We don’t know how long he’ll stay there so you’d better make the most of this.” Fury looked at his watch, raising an eyebrow. “And if you’re lucky, you’ll even catch our local agent there too.”

“What, you think we need a back-up?” Tony asked sarcastically.

“Call it what you will. They’re currently on their way, hopefully arriving before Quinn or you do. Try to contact them when you land. Now go.” he said, before any of them could ask more about it. “I want everybody on the damned jet in 30 minutes.”

* * *

Fully suited, they were ready for take-off in record time, everybody eager to catch that bastard and finish this mission. Steve quickly went over the details, flipping through the file, but Bucky barely paid any attention, checking his texts again.

“Ever put that phone down, buddy?” Sam asked from next to him.

Bucky huffed, putting it back in his pocket. “Sorry, I just can’t seem to reach 17.” There was a snort that suspiciously sounded like Agent 42 but Bucky decided to ignore it.

“She’s probably just busy.” Clint said from his other side, opening a bag of candy.

“Yeah, don’t worry about her. She can take care of herself. Besides,” Sam said, elbowing him in the side “imagine how excited she’ll be when we get to tell her we caught Quinn.”

Leaning back in the seat, Bucky sighed uneasily. “I don’t know. She hasn’t replied to any of my messages since yesterday.” he confessed. “She never did this before.”

“You won’t reach her ‘cause she quit.” Agent 42 quipped in with an ugly grin across his face.

Eyebrows drawn together in anger, Bucky scowled at him, voice dangerously low. “What was that?”

The little punk just shrugged smugly. “You heard me. She resigned a few days ago. You didn’t know?”

Bucky was sure the little bastard was just trying to get on his nerves. He knew this job was what 17 always dreamed about and that she’d never give up on it. And even if she did decide to quit, surely she would have let him know. She trusted him, and up until yesterday, she always replied or called him. Something was amiss.

“Huh. Guess she didn’t like you that much after all.” 42 added with a nasty smile.

“What did you say?!” Bucky growled, reaching to unbuckle his belt when Sam put a hand on his chest and Clint immediately pushed his metal shoulder firmly down.

“It’s not worth it, Bucky.” he said quietly, trying to keep him at bay as he fought back. In his book, it was more than worth it. He wanted to tear himself out of their grip when Steve appeared out of nowhere, towering over Agent 42 who still seemed amused with whatever game he was playing on him.

“I’ve had just about enough with you, agent.” Steve said calmly, drawing his attention to him. “While Agent 17 is not present at the moment, she is still considered a member of my team, and thus, you will address her with due respect from now on, just like everybody else.”

42 looked up at him from his seat, trying his best to play it tough. “But Hansen said-”

“Hansen isn’t here right now, is she? I’m here, however,” he leaned down closely, whispering in a low, but not less threatening voice “and I hate bullies. Can’t stand them. So you’d better start behaving, or I’ll let Agent Romanoff have a private chat with you.  _ Unsupervised _ .”

Swallowing hard, 42 risked a look at Nat, who had a cheshire cat grin spread across her face. “Hey, there.” she said, voice dripping with menace as she waved. Bucky had to bite his lips to keep his laughter at bay - the kid was about to shit himself right then and there, whimpering a ‘yessir, Captain, sir’ in a shaky voice.

  
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Steve said with a smile, straightening up and walking back to the cockpit as if nothing had happened. And 42 didn’t utter a single word for the rest of the trip.

* * *

“There.” Sharon pointed to the abandoned parking lot where Natasha coordinated their previous mission from. “Try to put the jet down there.”

“And what about the agent Fury mentioned?” Steve asked, carefully getting the quinjet ready for landing.

“Just give me a second.” Sharon reached over his seat, pushing a button on the dashboard. “This is Agent Carter, requesting report. Back-up, are you ready?” She waited patiently, but when there was no answer, with furrowed brows she asked again.

As the jet landed on the ground, there was a static crackle through the comms, but still no clear reply.

“I repeat. This is Agent Carter, requesting a report from back-up. Where are you?” she tried again, a little more anxiously this time.

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“A lotta’ help Fury’s agent is.” he grumbled, getting out of his seat, reaching for a gun but he froze as soon as he heard her voice.

“ _ I’m a little busy right now! _ ” Agent 17 shouted, followed by the grunts of a man.

“Agent 17?!” Sharon asked, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. “Do you need assistance? What’s your position?”

“ _ Son of a -- _ ” the rest of the sentence was cut off and before anybody could stop him, Bucky smashed the button next to the ramp, ignoring the shouts of protest behind him as he ran off with the nearest gun he could grab.

* * *

Crouching low at a broken window, 17 watched as men unloaded crates from a small truck. Killian must have landed what counted as a great deal because he seemed very excited. Luckily, she arrived before him and managed to hide in one of the side buildings, observing the trade from a safe distance and taking as many pictures as she could, certain that these will provide enough evidence against him in court.

Last week, after her call with Bucky, Agent 17 contacted Fury requesting an official transfer to the US headquarters. To her surprise, he agreed immediately and after a few days spent anxiously waiting for the necessary paperwork to be done, she was sent on her first official solo recon here, to Atlanta. As excited as she was to tell Bucky, Fury requested that she lie low and keep her presence a secret for as long as possible. She hated lying to Bucky, but hoped he would understand how crucial this was for the mission.

17 had a hard time believing her luck when she actually spotted Killian, immediately following and watching his every move intently. This was their best chance yet in getting him, and she wanted to be a part of it.

She was pulled out of her reverie when she heard a few workers shouting to each other. 17 watched them carry the last of the crates to the main building before packing up everything and driving off, leaving Killian alone with his two new bodyguards. She checked her watch, hoping the Avengers would be here soon. Because there was absolutely no way she’d let Killian go one more time.

To her horror though, he started walking towards his car, seemingly ready to leave.

_ Shit _ .

Quickly taking her gun out of the holster at her back, 17 tried to stay calm. The 3rd floor provided her the perfect vantage point. As enticing an idea as it was to shoot Killian right in the head, she took a deep breath and aimed at their only car, firing two shots right after each other and taking out both tires on the right side before ducking back. She couldn’t suppress a grin as she heard Quinn’s cursing over the satisfying hiss of the tires.

“You fucking idiots!” Killian shouted. “I told you to check the side buildings!”

She risked a peek out to see if she could fire another shot but had to pull her head back, a bullet missing her by just an inch.

“She’s on the 3rd floor, get her!”

_ Shit shit shit _ . 17 scrambled out of the room, carefully looking over the railing and down the stairs. Soon enough, his men appeared, taking the steps two at a time in their hurry. 

“Gosh, you guys  _ are _ idiots.” she muttered as she aimed her gun down, shooting one bodyguard in the leg, causing him to fall and roll back with screams of agony while the other one immediately fired up at her.

“You fucking whore, get down here so I can tear you apart!” he shouted as she pulled back, running off in the corridor and ducking into a room at the end, holding her breath. Listening to the noises from outside, her heart skipped a beat at the voice through the comms.

“ _ This is Agent Carter, requesting report. Back-up, are you ready? _ ”

Right at that second, Killian’s bodyguard entered the room. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, 17 smacked his gun out of his hand, kicking it away before hitting him in the face with the back of hers.

_ “I repeat. This is Agent Carter, requesting a report from back-up. Where are you? _ ”

Sharon sounded worried, but this had to be the worst timing in history. All too quickly, the guy recovered, picking 17 up by the collar and throwing her across the room. She got up on her hands and knees, groaning and trying to ignore the pain as she pressed a button on the comms. 

“I’m a little busy right now!” she said, right before she rolled out of the way from a kick aimed at her head. It barely missed the mark, knocking off her earpiece in the process.

“Son of a bitch!” she cursed, quickly getting up while the guy was busy stepping over the comms, crushing it into pieces. 17 picked up a plank from the ground, hitting the bastard on the head with all her strength. He staggered against the wall, trying to stay upright when she hit him straight in the face, knocking him out. She watched as he slid on the ground with a groan and a bloody nose.

Chest heaving as she struggled to breathe properly, 17 handcuffed him with trembling hands, picking up her gun from the ground and holding it in front of her as she scanned the corridor. She peeked over the railing, the other thug still sitting exactly where he fell, the bleeding of his leg finally seeming to subside. She pointed her gun at him as she walked slowly down the steps.

“Hands up, buddy. I’m not in the mood for any funny business.” she ordered sternly.

He seemed to eye her for a second, then decided to comply, raising his arms. Quickly, 17 handcuffed him too, then made a run for the ground floor. It was eerily quiet as she sneaked to the windows. The car seemed empty, but it was easy to hide behind it. She scanned around, carefully raising her head a bit higher, spotting Killian at the entrance to the main building. He just stood there, pointing a - 

“ _ Fucker! _ ” she barely had any time to duck, a series of bullets flying past her and ricocheting around the warehouse.

“You should have aimed at me instead of those tires, agent!” he shouted mockingly.

She rolled her eyes, crawling a bit farther under the windows before looking out again. She blindly fired a few shots but just missed Killian as he disappeared in the building. Muttering, 17 kicked away the empty magazine and loaded another. After waiting for an uneasy moment, she scanned around again, crawling out the window, crouching low as she ran over to the center warehouse.

She pressed her back against the brick wall next to the door, listening intently for the slightest of noises, but everything was quiet. Too quiet. She looked inside, but all she saw was high stacks of crates filling the giant hall of the warehouse. Still ducking low, she ventured in, running towards a pile of boxes when a bullet bounced off the wall right behind her.

She jumped forward, rolling behind the boxes, trying to guess which direction the bullet came from. Curse that fucking bastard for always knowing where  _ she _ was.

“You really are as stubborn as your father.” Killian said in a calm, taunting tone.

“Uh-huh.” she muttered before shouting back. “And you sure seem to have an unhealthy obsession with my family.”

“Just stating the obvious. How did you like learning about your heritage?”

Carefully sneaking to the other side of the boxes, 17 leaned out slightly, spotting Killian crouching behind a few crates. It wasn’t a clear shot, but enough to scare him.

“‘Twas nice.” she said casually, then pulled the trigger. The bullet bounced off the ground, Killian cursing under his breath as he scrambled out of sight. The walls of the old warehouse caused slight echoes, making it hard for 17 to determine where exactly he scuttered off to. “Should be thanking you, really.”

“I take it you don’t feel ashamed then?” she heard him ask. 17 huffed, shaking her head. Stupid bastard. His voice sounded from too close though, setting her on edge, so she slowly sneaked behind a larger stack of crates.

“Not really, no.” as quietly as she could, she checked her gun, making sure there was a bullet loaded in the chamber. “Whatever happened, I cannot change it, and if nothing else, my father had 13 years of peace and quiet. He had a family, and he was loved. I’m quite proud of him, actually.” 

17 fell quiet, hoping for a snarky remark that would tell her where Killian was, but nothing broke the silence around her. She felt her heart beating against her chest, body high on adrenaline and senses buzzing as she listened for the slightest of movements, but everything fell eerily quiet. Suddenly, she heard the slip of a boot from behind, snapping around and smacking Killian’s arm to the side in the last second. The bullet flew out the window as the gun hit the ground, and everything became a blur after that. She tried to raise her Glock, but Quinn knocked it out of her hand and for a few minutes, it was all a helpless mess of trying to wrestle the other one down.

Killian pushed her against the crates, hard, and it felt like her back was snapped in half. She fell on her knees with the force of it, choking for air. Spotting her gun just out of reach, 17 scrambled for it, but he was quicker. With the tell-tale click of the slide, Killian pointed the weapon at her head as he stood to his full height, free hand smoothing down his tousled hair.

And there she was, half crouching, half kneeling, completely frozen in fear. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re met with death, but that was utter bullshit. 17 saw nothing.

_ Only Bucky _ .

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Killian said, flashing a smirk even the devil would be proud of.

What a way to go, without seeing Bucky again, she thought, eyes squeezed shut and bracing herself for the shot. There was a click, and a familiar voice echoing through the warehouse as the cold metal of a barrel pressed against the back of Killian’s neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, pal.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All’s well that ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: some violence, fluff
> 
> This is the last chapter, there will only be a short Epilogue after this.

Bucky pushed the gun against Killian’s neck as he felt the anger boil the blood in his veins. Agent 17, her eyes finally open, looked up at them from the ground, her features a strange mix of fear and surprise. She was frozen in place like a deer caught in headlights, a gun still steadily pointed at her.

“Drop it. I’m not going to ask twice.” Bucky warned in a deep tone.

“Now, now, let’s not do anything stupid.” he said calmly, grinning down at 17 smugly. He caught her eyes shifting from the gun to Bucky behind him and he chose this moment to act. He spun around, but whatever glorious plans he had about overpowering the former Winter Soldier went down the drain in a split second as Bucky punched him in the throat.

Choking, he dropped his gun and before he could register what was happening, Bucky pulled back his right arm and punched him so hard he almost spun with the force of it, staggering to the ground. He tried to scramble up and save at least some of his dignity, but Bucky grabbed him firmly by the front of his shirt, dragging him slightly before easily lifting him off and smacking him against a metal column, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Don’t you  _ ever  _ mess with my girlfriend again, ya’ hear me?!” he gritted out, face contorted in a scowl.

Gasping for air, Killian tried to pull Bucky’s hands off while he kicked around, his feet desperately trying to find some purchase to no avail. Growling, Bucky had to muster up all his willpower not to break his bones, nice and slow, possibly making him scream as -

“I-I’m your girlfriend?” 17 asked, getting up from the floor.

Snapping his head to the side, Bucky’s entire posture softened immediately when he saw her standing there, seemingly alright at first glance.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah. Is… uh, is that okay with you, doll?” he asked hesitantly, still holding Killian a foot above the ground.

Shyly, 17 nodded. “Yeah, I like that. Love it, actually.”

Her soft smile warmed Bucky up from the inside out with a confidence that this was love, and it was his. The world could cease to exist around them, and he’d be fine as long as she was still there. He couldn’t wipe the dopey grin from his face, not even when Killian started tapping on his arms as he choked.

“Baby, I think you can let him down now.” 17 said, biting her lips, because really, this  _ shouldn’t be  _ funny.

“Oh.” Bucky mumbled, absentmindedly letting go. Killian dropped to the floor, clutching at his throat and wheezing for air. When he made a move to get up, Bucky gave him a hard kick that had him collapse back and made sure he stayed put. He then turned back to 17, arms open wide.

“Sweetheart, come here.”

Not being able to stay apart from him for a second longer, she ran into his arms, threatening to topple them over as she tackled him with a hug. Chuckling, Bucky held her as close as possible, burying his face in her hair and murmuring softly. “You okay, sweetheart? He didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m okay, now that you are here.” she said, voice trembling slightly, face pressed against his chest and he just held her there, only half believing this was real.

“Buck!” they turned to see Steve jogging towards them, his voice stern. “What did you do to him?”

In their excitement, they almost forgot about Killian.

Bucky shrugged “Dunno’. Looks like somebody kicked him in the stomach, though.” he said, squeezing 17 even tighter in his embrace and grinning like a cheshire cat.

Steve shook his head with a sigh, stopping when he got close and looking them over, his gaze lingering on 17. “Nice to see you, Agent.” he said, smiling at her. “Are you okay? You gave us quite the scare.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” she said with a blush at first, only now realizing what worry she must have caused when they heard her voice in the comms. “But, uh, you might wanna check the side building for Killian’s bodyguards. One of them needs an ambulance ‘cause I shot him in the leg but I managed to handcuff them so it’s not a big deal.” she boasted, shrugging with a smug smile.

Steve stood there gawking as Bucky burst out proudly “Didya’ take care of them all on your own?  _ That’s my girl _ .” he said, picking her up and spinning around before kissing her.

A bright smile against his lips, that’s what she was. Tasting of mischief and laughter, a crackling spark that set fireworks off in his heart, as her arms wound around his neck and he knew she’ll never let go of him again.

* * *

They walked out from the warehouse, hand in hand, followed by Steve escorting a handcuffed Killian. 17 stopped briefly when she spotted the rest of the team, Clint making a show of waving to her. 

“Over here!” he shouted and her hands slipped from Bucky’s hold as she ran up to Clint, squeaking when he hugged her almost too tight.

“Careful, Barton, or you’re going to break her ribs again.” Sam chided, and with a laugh, 17 jumped into his arms now.

“Heard you’ve been kicking ass without me.” he said, voice full of playful accusation.

“I’m sorry, but you guys took  _ ages _ to get here.” 17 complained, pressing her face against Sam’s chest and her hands clung to his back, hoping they won’t notice the tears welling up in her eyes.

“Well, if it isn’t Agent Munchkin.”

_ Tony _ . Sam passed her on to him before she could protest and he grabbed her in a tight embrace too. “Decided to have fun alone, huh? We were pretty worried, you know?”

Worried. For  _ her _ . She lingered on the thought of that as if it was something precious and new. There was a muffled sorry against his chest. A few sniffles. But all hell broke loose when Nat and Sharon almost tore her from Tony’s arms, and she couldn’t hold the tears back anymore.

“If you pull a stunt like that again, without telling us…” Nat threatened.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” she squeaked out amidst her tears, holding them both close. From the corner of her eye, she could just catch Steve ordering a pale-faced Agent 42 to stay and wait for the authorities, and she couldn’t suppress a smile. Everything will be fine now. She just knew it.

* * *

“Alright, let me get this straight,” Clint started as the jet took off, counting off on his fingers “they finished the investigation, turns out your parents  _ were _ spies and Hydra refuges, your asshole of a boss kicked you out of the team, you applied for a transfer, and now you’re here?”

“Pretty much.” 17 nodded, snuggling up against Bucky, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Now that they were together, there was no such thing as too close.

“Wow. Must have been a pretty rough few weeks for you.”

She shrugged. “I guess. But I’m just glad it’s all over now.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Tony turned around from his seat at the front. “If they finished the investigation, that means your files are accessible now?”

“Oooh, I bet Buck will be thrilled to learn your name now, huh?” Sam asked teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows only to stop when he saw the grin spreading across Bucky’s face. “Wait a minute…” he turned to 17. “Does he already know?”

“Maybe.” she said, a twinkle in her eye and a conspiratory smile sent Bucky’s way, which he returned. 

“Wow. Hurt.” Clint murmured.

“Gonna share it with the class? Or do I need to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony quipped.

They all looked at her expectantly, and she blushed slightly under their gaze, but Bucky gave a squeeze to her shoulders, leaning down to whisper a sweet reassurance in her ear. Playing with the hem of her shirt, 17 took a deep breath.

“Umm. It’s Alanah. Alanah Farkas.” she answered quietly.

After a few seconds of utter silence, they all broke out awwing and she buried her face in her hands under the sea of compliments, telling her how cute it is and how it suits her.

“Now we just have to come up with a nickname for you.” Sharon said with a wink.

“Yeah, no more calling you numbers, like some math-test.” Clint frowned.

“Hey! I happen to like my number!” 17 tried to speak up, but was promptly ignored, much to Bucky’s amusement, who just hugged her closer with a laugh.

“We need to come up with something cute.” Steve added, somehow holding a serious expression.

“Or, you could just call me by my surname?” 17 insisted amid the teasing.

Tony swiveled around in his chair, looking mortified. “What? No way! I’m not gonna call you something posh like ‘ _ Agent Farkas _ ’.”

She groaned. “Tony, that’s literally my name.”

“What have you been calling her?” Nat asked, nudging Bucky in the shoulder.

They all turned to him, but he shrugged easily, looking over at 17 with a softness in his eyes that was hard to describe. “Just ‘Lana.” he said, voice overflowing with love as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, causing her cheeks to flush.

“Aww.” Clint cooed. “So adorable.”

17 pressed her face against Bucky’s shoulder, trying her best to hide her blush. Sending in her resignation and leaving her life in Europe behind was a hard decision, despite everything and constantly, she questioned whether Bucky would be happy to have her here. But another kiss pressed on her head was all it took, and she felt loved - not just by Bucky, but by every one of them.

* * *

_ Dejá vu _ . It’s what it was to step off the jet with her duffel bag in hand. Drinking in the same sunshine that shone like this a few months ago, when she came to the Tower for the first time. Full of nerves and jittery excitement, ready to tackle a case, eager to finish it as soon as possible and get back home again.

Killian was right about one thing, though. Life  _ does _ have a strange sense of humour sometimes.

She must have stood there for a bit too long, as Bucky gave her a confused look. “You okay?”

17 nodded, let him gently pry the bag from her hands and followed him inside, startled when Fury greeted them. A gargoyle, she’s convinced now. “Agent 17, nice to see you in person again. Those video calls were becoming a bother.”

“S-Sir!” 17 immediately saluted, but Fury just waved her off with a scorn.

“At ease. Heard you did a great job out there. Expected nothing less, mind you. Consider this your official welcome on board the team.” he gave them both a hard look. “ Although while I might overlook a conflict of interest, you will find others are not as nice as me. So keep it quiet and as for you, Sergeant Barnes, keep it in your pants. Dismissed.”

With a pink blush creeping up his cheeks, Bucky shot a ‘ _ yessir _ ’ his way, the team snickering behind them.

“Let’s just get the debriefing over, hmm?” 17 asked, brushing a lock of hair behind Bucky’s ear with an apologetic smile.

She didn’t see Tony giving Steve a warning look behind their back, turning around only when they cleared their throat.

“Khm. Yeah, about that, we decided to postpone that for now.” Steve said, doing a terrible job with keeping a straight face while Bucky eyed him suspiciously. “You must be tired, 17, so just go ahead and rest for now.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, giving them a confused look.

“Sure, sure, go ahead, Munchkin.” Tony gently turned her around, giving a push. “Oh, and we had to give your room away so you might have to share with Barney for a day.”

“Or two.” Sam whispered to Natasha, wiggling his eyebrows and ignoring the killer look Bucky threw at them.

“Okay, okay,  _ fine _ .” 17 said, agreeing with a half-annoyed huff. “But be sure to call me when you want to start it, though?”

“Wait a minute.” Clint mumbled. “Tony, we have this huge ass Tower and you’re telling me you don’t have a single room free for her to - OOF!!” he curled up after Nat promptly elbowed him in the stomach.

“Have fun, lovebirds.” she said with a wink.

* * *

Bucky held the door open for her, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he apologized. “Sorry if it’s a little messy. I didn’t really expect visitors.”

Carefully, 17 stepped in, standing next to the door respectfully as she looked around. The room was neat, if not exactly the cleanest - but there was a certain intimacy in being allowed in this space. Every inch of the room spoke of Bucky, from the simple furniture to the photos on the wall. The stack of books on the nightstand had her tilting her head in curiosity, wondering what types of books he liked to read - something they haven’t really talked about in detail and she realized now they have all the time in the world if they wanted to.

A strange, awkward tension swelling in his chest, Bucky felt nervous and bare as she examined the room. “Make yourself at home.” he said shyly.

“Are you okay with this?” 17 asked, watching him sit on the bed with a heavy sigh. She felt a fear trying to make a home in her bones now as Bucky gave her a confused look.

“Sure, doll. Bed’s big enough for the two of us, or I can sleep on the couch if you’d like.” he said, oblivious as he was lost in the depth of her brown eyes, trying to decipher the unreadable darkness pooling in them.

A rueful smile on her face, but she was still so beautiful. “That’s not what I mean. I uhm.” she huffed, angry that she couldn’t find the right words. “I never asked you whether you’d like me to be here, and then I couldn’t talk to you because we had to keep this a secret and I felt  _ so bad _ for not telling you the truth. Now I just feel like I’m forcing myself onto you.” she confessed, tears stinging in her eyes.

“Doll, sweetheart.” Bucky reached a hand out, motioning for her, and she timidly walked over. Let him pull her into his lap and how easy it was for her to sit there, to snuggle close - as if they had done this a thousand times, been together for eternity and nobody would believe it was the first time for them to be allowed to hold each other like this. 

“Darlin’,  _ love _ , how could I not want you here?” he whispered, softly pressing a kiss on her head. She squirmed around a bit until she could wrap her arms around him as an answer and he smiled. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here, doll. When I heard your voice, I…” he squeezed her tighter, pressing an apologetic kiss to her cheek. “I just dropped everything to get to you. Couldn’t believe it was really you.”

She smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “So you don’t mind?”

Bucky laughed. “No. You’re here, and you’re mine. My trouble.”

17 twisted slightly until she could look at him with a pout. “I thought you said I’m  _ not _ trouble.”

“Yeah, well.” he shrugged. “You were injured, and I had to say something to comfort you.”

“Oh, I see how it is now.” she said, eyes narrowing and a wicked grin on her face as she reached to Bucky’s sides, giving them a ticklish squeeze that caught him by surprise. With a squeak and a squirm, he grabbed for her hands, laughing as she tried to fight him but he had her easily, pushing her on the bed, towering over her.

“Oh, you’re so much trouble now.” he warned, shaking his head.

She giggled, faking a gasp. “Oh no! Whatever will you do to me now?”

“Kiss you silly, of course.” he growled playfully before he leaned down to do so. Tasted laughter on her lips, honey mischief on her tongue. Lay down on the bed and pulled her close, closer than possible; a pure instinct of love.

And then, the gentle, tender shifts as it morphed into an unspeakable need to never let go, because how long have they been carefully dancing around each other? How long have they avoided this? Afraid that if one of them pushed a little harder, this fragile thing, this love between them would break into a myriad little pieces. How long did they yearn for this moment?

Too long, Bucky muses. Way too fucking long, he thought as he buried his face to the crook of her neck and reveled in her shivers when he pressed a kiss there. Swallowed the tremor that ran through his soul when she slipped an arm around him, under his shirt against the hot skin because even this wasn’t close enough now. Couldn’t help the happy noise when her free hand scratched affectionately at his beard, feather-soft kisses against his cheek, and that’s when they both realized -

\- this was love, and it was theirs to hold. And they would never let go.

* * *

_ 1 WEEK LATER _

Sharon sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her arms. “You look nervous.” she commented, voice dripping with amusement.

17 gave her a bemused look. “You think? This’ll be my first date with Bucky, and my stuff still hasn’t arrived from Europe. What are those movers getting paid for?” she paced back and forth in the room, practically running to the door when there was a knock.

Sharon grinned at Nat who carried a pile of clothes in her hand, slipping into the room. “About time, I was getting dizzy just from watching her.”

“Relax, I got everything we need.” she said, looking 17 over. “Okay. Those pants need to go. Here, put this on.” she took something from the top of the pile, unceremoniously showing it in her hands.

“I’m sorry.” 17 mumbled apologetically. “I’m just so afraid this won’t turn out well. I don’t know what I would do without you two hel-” she fell silent as soon as she realized what Nat just handed to her, pausing. “Natasha, I can’t wear this.”

“Why not? It’s cute. Besides, you need to wear something sexy. We have to make Bucky squirm in his seat.” she said with a wink.

“You know I  _ hate _ skirts.” she groaned, holding up the material with slight disgust, measuring it up like an enemy she has to defeat. Why was it always skirts?

“And you know Bucky said he’d love to see you tearing one off.” Sharon quipped, wiggling her eyebrows and laughing out loud when she saw her face turning even redder. 

Grumbling and muttering to herself, 17 went into the bathroom, leaving the door half open. She took off her jeans, pulling the skirt on with some reluctance when a hand reached in, holding a shirt out to her. She whimpered.

“You sure?” she pleaded.

“Trust me.” came Sharon’s reply, and she knew there was no room for argument. She changed into the clothes, trying to get a look in the mirror, unsure of what to think. She stepped out from the bathroom, biting her lips. “How bad is it?” she squeaked.

For an anxious minute, Sharon and Nat just sat there, looking her over until Tasha whistled appreciatively. “Wow. Bucky will squirm in his seat.”

Cheeks heating up at the thought of that, 17 tried to busy herself with straightening the clothes a bit. She smoothed over the dark green skirt - sending a prayer of thanks to the gods that it was at least a knee-length one - and carefully adjusted the hem of her black shirt. It had a few silver motives on the front but nothing too flashy and while it wasn’t exactly her style, she almost hated to admit that it still felt comfortable enough.

She must have been suspiciously silent for too long, for Sharon gently called her over, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, if you really don’t like the clothes, you can still change.”

Sighing, she looked over herself once more - she wanted to make this first date special, but they agreed with Bucky not to make it too fancy. This outfit did just that, and she already felt a smile tugging at her lips as she tried to imagine his face when he saw the skirt.

“I think she likes it.” Nat teased in a singsong tone before she could even form an answer.

“A little.” 17 admitted with a chuckle. “Thank you for the help. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome. Now go, before he leaves without you.”

She thanked them with a hug, picking up her bag and hurrying off along the corridor. 17 was about to enter the living room when she heard some all too familiar voices arguing. Peeking around the corner, she saw Bucky leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and shooting daggers at Steve and Tony with his eyes. She tried not to linger too much on that leather jacket Bucky was wearing and how delicious he looked in dark jeans.

“Buck, all I said was that maybe you should have bought flowers. At least a rose.” Steve chided patiently from the couch, sitting next to Tony.

“We agreed not to do anything fancy!” Bucky protested.

“And you thought that a sweet angel like her wouldn’t be happy for a flower.” Tony said in a voice laced with sarcasm.

Bucky downright growled. “And where would she put it on the motorbike, genius?”

17 couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her, causing them all to turn to her. She stepped around the corner and Bucky was ready to open his mouth for a flirty remark, only to close it again and swallow. Hard.

With a cheeky smile, 17 did a little twirl around, showing off her outfit. “You like it?”

“You’re taking a car. Period.” Tony stated dryly after taking one look at the skirt.

Bucky was too mesmerised to even register his remark. “Doll, you look so beautiful.” he said, looking at her in awe. How she managed to pull these tricks on him, he had no idea, but she was there - sunshine and cotton candy sweetness that he could taste on his lips already, his breath hitching as she skipped over, right into his arms. Fitting so well it made him wonder what it was like before this piece of him, this love missing, and he found he couldn’t remember. Didn’t want to, either.

Eyes like liquid mischief as she tugged on his hand, pulling him towards the door. “Come on, Bucky, we’ll be late.”

“Bring her home by 10.” Steve said, only half joking.

“And no funny business, Barnes.” Tony warned.

“But what if  _ I _ want funny business?” 17 asked as she grabbed Bucky’s butt, sticking her tongue out when he yelped.

“Who taught you that?” she heard Tony cry out as she laughed and it was still the sweetest sound, Bucky thought as she kissed him, setting his soul alight. His mischief-maker, heart-stealer. Nothing but trouble wrapped in love.


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: smut (not explicit)

Bucky woke up with a lazy stretch, eyes still closed and smiling when he thought of the day ahead. He turned over on his side, excitement popped like a bubble when he found the bed empty next to him. Frowning, he looked around the room, huffing indignantly when he concluded he was alone. Burying his face in the pillow that still held the sweet scent of her honey shampoo - the one she kept using because he mentioned he loved the smell of - he tried to go back to sleep.

It’s how she found him a few minutes later, once back at their hotel room. Smiling, she put down a handful of postcards on the table, depositing it to the ever-growing pile of souvenirs before carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed, eliciting the happiest sighs out of him as she started rubbing his back.

“Good morning, baby.” she whispered fondly.

Bucky turned his head towards her, face half-hidden in the pillow. “Would have been if you were here with me, doll.” he murmured seemingly hurt but the pout melted off his lips when she started to massage the back of his neck, a trick she was quick to learn when it came to relaxing him.

“Sorry, I went off to grab some more gifts, and you were sleeping so peacefully. Didn’t want to wake you.” she said apologetically.

He couldn’t help the happy noise when her hands slipped up into his hair, scratching at his scalp. She grinned, still amazed by the effect the most tender of touches had on him. “Wanna grab some food? We could go out to the coffee shop.”

Bucky groaned, hugging the pillow tighter. “ _ Depends _ . Do I have to put pants on for that?”

“I’m afraid so.” she laughed, ruffling his hair and making him growl playfully. 

“Sounds like a shitty deal if ya’ ask me.” Bucky grumbled. “Why don’t you come back to bed instead?” They've played the same game almost every morning since they arrived.

Normally, Bucky had to beg her out of bed, but now that she was back in Berlin, 17 was buzzing with excitement and energy. She wanted to show him everything; from the museums to the zoo, her favorite bookshop, or the place where she used to get coffee from. She wanted to make the most of their short vacation, but in Bucky’s book, that meant staying in bed, napping, or... other activities.

“Uh-huh, you wish.” she gave him a playful little poke and made a move to get up, but was suddenly grabbed by the waist and yanked into the bed. Squealing, she tried to get out of his grip, rolling and getting tangled up in the bed sheets as they wrestled playfully until Bucky pinned her.

“You are the worst!” she giggled, giving up with a huff. 

“That mean you’ll stay in bed with me then?” He looked at her with puppy eyes, pouting for maximum effect, but she threw back her head, laughing again.

“Bucky, that’s not gonna work, I’m hungry!”

She tried to get up, but he rolled above her, hands on either side of her head caging her in. “What if I bring you breakfast in bed?” he bargained, and that seemed to catch her attention. Bucky had a tendency to have a stash of snacks at hand, and she recalled seeing him hiding a few packs of gummy bears.

“What breakfast?” she asked, smiling expectantly.

He looked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Sausage and two eggs.” he said with a shit-eating grin, bursting out laughing when she smacked his chest.

“ _ Bucky! _ ” she gasped, trying to scoot away with mock shock, but he trapped her with a kiss.

“Please, Lana darlin’.” he murmured against her lips and Bucky knew he won when he heard a soft whimper escape her. “You know I’ll make you feel good.” He pulled away only to leave a trail of soft kisses down her throat, the way he knew she loved. Sucked gently against the skin and reveled in the shivers across her body that was only his to treasure.

She moaned when his lips brushed over an especially sensitive spot. “You’re  _ cheating _ .” she whined.

Oh, he won this alright.

“Sorry, doll.” he said with a grin, but he wasn’t. Never sorry for making her feel loved, and he’d never trade this for anything.

He helped her out of her jeans and watched with a darkening gaze as she slipped out of her shirt. Teased him with mischief in her eyes while taking her time with those lace panties until he growled, threatening to tear it off. Swallowed the butterflies back into his belly when she laughed. Kissed her silly in the morning light, reminding her over and over again how beautiful she was.

She carded her fingers through his hair, tugging gently, and he shivered when her free hand drew delicate, teasing patterns on his back. She’s going to be the death of him, that was for sure, he thought as he settled between her thighs, eased himself slowly in and swallowed her sighs as he kissed her.

Made sweet love to her till they both felt dizzy and drunk on this feeling. And wasn’t she pretty, coming undone? Bucky could live another hundred years and nothing could be more beautiful than this: the two of them falling apart only to be kissed whole again.

And the world sat waiting until they had their fill of each other, staggering tipsily on kisses too sweet, hearts dripping over the brim on love when they finally ventured out. Breakfast for lunch and days filled with walks, too many coffees and just  _ one more _ scoop of that ice cream because there was time; time for the two of them now.


End file.
